


What Good Girls Think About

by Matilda1901



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Jon Snow, Dry Humping, Explicit Consent, F/M, Foreplay, Grief/Mourning, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Lemon Cakes, Light Dom/sub, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Smut, Spanking, Sub Sansa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2020-04-12 07:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19127362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matilda1901/pseuds/Matilda1901
Summary: This series will explore Sansa's sexual history with Jon from college into adulthood and how their relationship informed their kinks.  Read the tags, please!Comments are love and life!





	1. Please

i.

 

She was nineteen the first time his hands went down her pants and he was twenty-two and some how he still felt so guilty about giving in to it but that was also what turned him on. 

 

He wasn’t supposed to.She wasn’t supposed to.And they did it anyway.

 

It was the night before she was going to leave the dorms and go back to Winterfell for break and there was a party with so many drinks (because what else are fraternities for).And Renly, in his handsome, flamboyant, pink polo had her dancing in her jeans and green t-shirt and she barely knew how to move her hips. The other girls, Margery, Val, Jenye, in their tight skirts and heels with their boobs falling out of their tanks and all he saw was those big eyes and innocent giggle and a red solo cup in her hand and her red hair falling over her shoulders as she swayed.

 

The thought of her beneath him, squirming and pleading for something she couldn’t name and him giving it to her.Answering her questions.It made him so hard he sat at the card table for over an hour before he could get up.She was Robb’s little sister, still a freshman, off limits to every man, still whole and sweet and beautiful.Untouched. First her father had made sure of that, and now, so did Robb.She had kindness in her too, with just enough sass to be funny.He had ignored her just 3 years before, when they were in high school and she was still skinny and moody.But now… now, he thought of her most of the time when he took himself in hand and he avoided being alone with her.

 

He found her upstairs as the night dwindled and people started to disappear and she didn’t have a ride and he couldn’t drive and he offered, selfishly but with no intention of taking anything from her, because _really_ the alternative was letting her end up in another bed with one of his brothers who wouldn’t have any restraint.

 

He led her to his room and put on a movie then turned out the lights and they sprawled on his futon, each with their own blanket and he kept his distance as she chattered about friends and who had left the party with whom.She never talked this much, he knew from experience, but then he never would have let her in his room, if not for the drinks they’d both had.She said she was tired and he told her it was okay to fall asleep, that he would give her a ride home in the morning, _of course before her parents came to get her_ , and she stared at him then rolled on to her back.

 

“Are you still with Dany?”Her cheeks were rosy from the drinks and she rambled on before he could answer.“I just don’t want to get in trouble with anyone.Make anyone mad if I… shouldn’t be here,” she said with a hiccup.“Not that we are doing anything wrong, I know I’m not…”, she shook her head.“I just want to make sure this is ok, that I’m here.”

 

She bit her lower lip and looked at him with wide eyes.Jon’s breathing sped up as his cock stirred in his pants.“It’s no problem. It’s only sleeping somewhere safe.”

 

She pursed her lips.He saw the gears change in her head.“Is it because I’m not very pretty?” _What prick in Westeros who had told her that?_ But again she continued before he could answer, “I haven’t done anything… this whole year.I thought college would be different from high school.All the boys hated how tall I was or maybe it’s that I was the Lord’s daughter but… I know I’m supposed to be good but I want to know what it’s like… when it’s with someone else.”Her arms flailed at her sides.

 

Jon’s blood rose in his veins, yet he kept his voice steady, “Someone other than who?”

 

“No one.I mean, I have… figured out how to… myself.But no one has ever…” She shut her eyes and looked away towards the wall.“You would tell me, right?Why no one seems interested…”

 

The thought of Sansa, on the sheets of her bed, flushed with her hand between her legs flickered thru his mind and he pushed it away with both hands.“Sweetheart.”He whispered. “You’re so pretty.You’re beautiful.None of that shit, who you were in high school, it doesn’t matter. You’ll find someone who likes you and… it will all happen so fast.”

She turned her head back to him.“I hate it.I hate walking around with a sign on my back that says VIRGIN. It’s like they all know and expect to be hung if they touch me.”

 

“Sansa-“

 

“I know, I know I shouldn’t just want to but I do,” her voice growing increasingly whiny.“I want it over with.I don’t want to be the good girl.”And then, she lowered her eyes and her voice, “I’m not a good girl.”

 

 _Oh Gods._ Jon couldn’t help himself.His eyes locked on hers, and he lowered his own voice and shifted imperceptibly closer to her.“What do you mean?”

 

“What I think about.It’s not what good girls think about.”

 

Still not breaking eye contact, he commanded ever so gently, “Tell me what you think about.”

 

“About being told to hold still and be quiet while someone… puts his hands under my skirt in a crowded place.Like the library.Or putting my hands on a wall and… and…”

 

“And what?”

 

“Bending over and spreading my legs.And waiting to be taken.”Jon looked at her, forcing his expression not to change.Shocked that she said it and to him and is staring at his mouth like she expects nothing to come of what she just said.Then abruptly, she turned away.“See, you think I’m gross,” she said, hiding her face with her hands.

 

“I don’t,” he said simply.And then, because she didn’t move her hands, he leaned into her and whispered in her ear, “I want to touch you so badly.I watched you when you were dancing and you made me hard.”She peeked her eyes out from behind her hands.“I’m hard right now because of you.”He took her hand in his and brushed it over his jeans.He let go but her hand stayed there, tentatively stroking him thru the fabric.She hummed in her chest and rubbed her thighs together. 

 

“Jon.”It was a breathy whisper.Maybe a question.A plea. 

 

So he kissed her.Softly, with his lips to hers.And she returned it, followed his lead, until his hand was in her hair and his tongue was in her mouth and their legs were twined together as she rubbed against him as best she could for relief.He could tell she was inexperienced as she mimicked what he did to her back to him but she was a quick study.

 

He settled between her legs, both of their jeans still on, but the hardness of his cock still obvious against her thigh.His hand wandered under that T-shirt to cup her tits over her bra.It was thin, lacy fabric and he could feel her hard nipples under the fabric.She panted into his mouth and squeaked a, “Please.”So he pushed up the shirt and gave her his mouth, sucking one as he rolled the other between his fingers.  
  
He stayed there for a while, content to feel her fingers in his hair, but then she bucked her hips into his stomach, trying to grind against something and when he looked at her face, he saw her mouth wide open and her eyes clenched shut, her whole body arched and begging him.He pulled himself up and fit their hips together and ground into her thru their jeans again.

 

“Ohhhh,” she moaned.

 

“Does it feel good?” he asked, reveling in being the first to illicit that sound from her.

 

“Yesss,” she whispered, raising her hips to meet him.

 

“Do you want me to touch you?” he whispered, his right hand brushing lightly against the spot right above the button on her jeans.

 

He felt her nod emphatically but it wasn’t enough.He should stop, he should stop, he should stop.But the look of her, the feel of her against him, her eagerness.

 

“Say it, so I know you’re sure.”

 

“Please, please… take them off, touch me.”

 

He kissed her as he slide the button apart and lowered the zipper.He cupped her over her panties and they were soaked. She ground into his hand and he held it there for her as he kissed and sucked at her neck.

 

Another whisper in her ear, “I’m going to make you come.Do you want that?”

 

“Yes, please.Please,” she gasped.

 

His thumb found her clit thru her cotton panties and he circled it.She was so wet it was like they turned to silk.His mouth went back to her tits and the harder he sucked, the louder she moaned.He pushed her bra aside and took one nipple fully into his mouth.She cried a high pitched squeak and shook in his arms and then was quiet, her hips still barely moving against his hand.

 

“Did you finish, beautiful?”She thru an arm over her face and nodded.She was a picture he would never forget - red locks mussed at every angle, shirt pushed up to just above her chest, one of her breasts still in her black bra, the other free, pebbled and dark pink, pants unbuttoned but still around her hips and elastic band of her black panties barely visible.

 

“Are you okay?”She nodded again.He kissed her arm, “I’ll be right back.”

 

Jon was lucky enough to have the seniority that afforded him a room with an adjoining bathroom.He entered and quickly unbuckled his pants, leaned against the shower wall and finished himself with three quick pumps.Now, perhaps, he stood a chance of going back out there and leaving her alone.No matter what she might say.

 

The next morning she went back to Winterfell and he started an internship.And they wouldn’t see each other for nearly 4 months.


	2. Hush, Keep it Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when classes start in Sansa's sophomore and Jon's senior year at university.

ii.

 

He holds so many pictures of her in his mind from that last year he was in school.

 

The first time he saw her after break, in a turquoise halter top, was the night Robb decided to put a sprinkler on the lawn (which attracted the ladies, of course).She talked to Theon, Renly, even Loras before she finally sat next to him on the porch with a beer, knees together, back straight and said, with the tiniest, bashful smile, “Hello.”

 

He had smiled, all the way into his eyes, and said the same.He never confessed to her what he wanted to do after she uttered that single word to him, which was to undo the strap behind her neck and let her tits fall out and feast upon them while he ground his erection against her cunt because _he already had one._ After she spoke one word.His darkest parts wanted to let everybody see what she did to him, what he did to her, hear the noises she made under his touch.

 

Jon’s thoughts were always dirtier, far rougher than his actions.

 

He would remember the way they managed to avoid each other at parties, always pretending they were somewhat distant.Until an inevitable moment in the night, most people too far gone to notice, when their eyes might meet and they would dance together, her ass brushing against his lap.He would catalogue what she wore, for himself, later, and he would imagine peeling it all off her slowly, or leaving most of it on, dispensing only with the essentials.

 

It happened that way the first time they came back together, two weeks into the semester.He gave her a look and walked upstairs, she knew she was to follow him.She _had to_ follow him.

 

How he had taken off her all he clothes and left all of his on and used his mouth on her, so gently, only his mouth, not even his fingers, because she was so very tight and how she had come apart clamping his head between her soft, milky thighs.How he talked to her the whole time, telling her of all her glories, and he was never sure if it was the words or his actual skill with his tongue that made the difference. How he hadn’t asked her for anything in return.She was still too innocent to think of disrobing him, happy to let him do as he wanted.

 

How he knew that if he had pushed her, she would have opened her legs and let him in at any point. But he never pushed her, not that way, he only gave her what she pleaded for, which he knew was touch and tingling skin and relief from the ache of being so in control, so poised, so perfect, all the time.

 

Who Sansa was in bed, was not who she was in life.If you had asked anyone she knew to describe her, even her family or her best friends, they would have used words like _determined, confident, bold, brave._ Even bossy.But beneath Jon, she was none of those things.She relished that she didn’t have to be.

 

He would ask her what she wanted, what she thought of, gave her permission to give voice to the desires that rolled under her skin that she wasn’t _allowed_ to have as the eldest daughter of a highborn Lord, not if she followed all the morals and expectations that had been strung around her neck like a noose.Nothing she could say would put him off, in fact most of it did the opposite.He would let her come apart against him and she was the most exposed she would ever be, whether he had removed her clothes or not.

 

Who Jon was in bed, was also not who he was in life.The world said he was a second fiddle to his best friend, forgettable, with no power or prestige, a runt.But with Sansa, he was a commander: wise, merciful and strong.He could look at her and make her wet, from across a table or a room.He let her be vulnerable and yet gave her the confidence to be _anything_ when she was outside his arms.

 

The most precious picture he held is how eventually, on a cold, snowy night during finals week 1st semester, he had taken her virginity after she had begged him to rid her of it with whispered cries, “It’s not enough, I want you in me, I want to feel you in me, please please please.”And how he had done so, gently, slowly, with peppered kisses and soft caresses.Because he couldn’t tell her no.That was how it started and so it would always be.How she said it had only hurt a little and then not at all.How he had _finally felt her_ come apart around him after all those nights of denying himself.How she had asked if they could do it again as soon as they were done, and he’d laughed and said, “Give me a minute.”

 

He taught her to ride him, but it wasn’t her favorite.And he took her from behind, just like that first fantasy she had, her hands forever imprinted with the feel of brick beneath her fingers as he entered her. He pushed her back against walls, fingered her in the deepest rows in the library as she bit on his hand to keep quiet (one of her canines left a scar in the softness by his thumb); the same hand would ghost over her ass at a crowded party and he would see the goosebumps spread across her arm as she pretended nothing had happened. And he called her beautiful.And sweetheart.And pretty girl.

 

When they were alone.

 

He’d ask her if she had been good and sometimes tell he she had been bad, because _did she know what it felt like when she did that thing she knew he liked and all he could do was watch?_

 

It was all their secret.He wondered sometimes, if they were out in the open, if they would still turn each other on, and if it would be _this much_.And he wondered why she seemed content to have it be only theirs.And he wondered the same about himself.Was it love or lust?Did it matter which? They never thought of stopping.Neither asked for more.And he wondered how long it would be before Robb discovered and killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is still evolving - all your comments keep me going and creating!


	3. The Third Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graduation for Jon means a change for them both.

iii.

 

A year to the day he had put his hands down her pants the first time, Jon graduated and moved away for a job because staying in a sleepy college town was not going to help him pay off his loans.Three and a half hours down the interstate; a world away. 

 

They started chatting online when he was at work, stuck in a cubicle, in a job he hated. They talked about politics (they never agreed), her classes, the type of job he wished he could find, their friends, her family, and how Sansa still didn’t know what to do with her life. They never talked about others (but there were, for both of them). Or what they were to each other.The first semester flew by and they saw each other twice (fucked each other twice) but they chatted for hours most week days and Sansa never questioned why any of it was how it was. 

 

It was how it had always been.A secret that never changed.They were tethered to each other by want.Nothing else was necessary.

 

This would be the third time she had seen him in 9 months.  And the desire she felt never dulled.  A fact the she found embarrassing, marvelous, and terrifying.  
  


She had moved into an apartment in the same building as Robb and one Friday during 2nd semester, when she knew Jon was coming to town, she left her apartment door unlocked and stood in front of the mirror with her bathroom door open in a red bra and boy short underwear, waiting for the moment when Jon would knock and let himself in and call her name and keep looking for her when she didn’t answer.And he found her, curling iron in hand, staring at the mirror with a bored expression.She made him wait, leaning against the door frame, a full 30 seconds, taking her in.Then she quietly set down the iron and slowly glanced at him, her palms spread on the vanity, ass pushed out ever so slightly.

 

They regarded each other for several long beats.She loved this part, when they said nothing but also everything and anything was possible. Her skin prickled and suffocating _need_ filled the room.No one else did that to her.Jon could do it with his eyes.

 

“Is this for me?” he asked, when he finally spoke, looking her up and down.

 

She nodded, and pursed her lips together.She had learned that he liked her this way: innocent, nervous.But it was never entirely an act, just something she played up, because every time, she thought of the first time, and she felt new again.

 

He walked to her and she didn’t move.He leaned against the counter and his hand hung at his side, level with her pussy, and if she leaned forward she would feel his fingers through the fabric but he wouldn’t like that.So she stayed frozen.“You were waiting for me, weren’t you?So I’d see you like this.So I’d think about you for the rest of tonight.”His voice was low and his hand didn’t move and this was her punishment for her little scheme.His hand would not touch her and she would have to live with that unsatisfied damp between her legs until he decided to quench it.

 

“JON!”

 

Robb’s voice broke their game.Her eyes widened.She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself and moved for the door.Jon’s panicked face asked her so many questions but she shook her head and disappeared into the hall, shutting him up in the bathroom.He heard them speak.

 

“Oh, Sansa, sorry!Jon’s car is downstairs but I haven’t seen him?”

 

“He’s in the bathroom.Couldn’t make it up to your place.Long drive I guess.”

 

“Oh, ok.You should really lock your door, I’ve told you this before.”

 

“I know, I know.But I know everyone who lives here Robb; it’s a small building.And if I scream, I’m sure you’ll hear me.”

 

“Don’t joke.”

 

Jon flushed the toilet and turned on the sink.

 

“Hey man,” Robb yelled, pounding on the door.“We were going to head out in 20 minutes or so, yeah?”

 

“Okay, I’ll be up in a minute,” Jon called.

 

Jon waited until Robb left to join Sansa in the hall.“Are you coming with us?”

 

“You know I can’t.I’m not old enough for the bars yet.”She dropped the towel and leaned against the wall, pushing her hips towards him.“You better come back ready.Don’t get too pissed.”She wiggled her eyebrows and smirked.

 

She never talked to him like that.Not when it came to sex, unless…He could hear his blood pumping thru his veins, rushing to his cock.He knew what she was asking for and he was more than ready to give it.

 

In two steps he closed the gap between them and his fingers had snapped her panties aside and plunged into her folds.She melted into him, all of her bravado evaporated.

 

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked, level, patient, but serious.

 

“Yes,” she murmured, mouth hanging open, their eyes locked together.  He worked her over until a moan that she was holding back finally escaped her lips.

 

“I know, sweet girl, I know.Look at how wet you are,” he said, holding up his fingers, running them together.She whined at their absence.“Did I do this?”

 

He rested his fingers on her lips and her tongue darted out, tasting herself, mumbling, “Yes.”

 

Jon’s fingers shook and he quickly dropped his hand.“Turn around.”As soon as she did, assuming a position she knew well by now, his hand fell across her ass. *Smack*.And again, on the other cheek. *Smack* She gasped, then groaned, and tossed her hair over her shoulder.He had never done that before.Well, only when he was inside her and then, not so intentionally.She liked it but had never asked him to do it because, even with everything that has passed between them, she still couldn’t always admit the things she craved.And yet, somehow, he always knew. 

 

It must have been the distance, she reasoned, because every one of their encounters this year had seemed to escalate, growing more bold, more dangerous, more intense.Even him being in here with her like this, when Robb knew where he was and Jon had no way to explain what was taking him so long.They never would have done this before.

 

His hand fell again.*Smack*

 

“And are you going to be waiting for me when I come back?”His hand ghosted over her waist and softly over her bum.

 

“Yes.”

 

He grabbed a firm handful of her bum and then his hand continued down. She shifted to spread her legs, as his hand slid under her panties again.He entered her with two fingers.He leaned in to whisper so gently in her ear, “Whose is this?”

 

 _Oh my._ She moaned and rocked back against him.“Yours.Only yours.”

“Yes,” he whispered.“Your beautiful pussy is mine.”He brought his other hand up to caress her cheek.“When I leave here, you aren’t going to touch yourself, are you?” he whispered, looking deep into her eyes.

 

“No.I’ll wait for you.”She dug her fingernails into her fists as he removed his fingers from her and slide them up to play with her clit.She moaned again, more loudly, sagging against the wall, against him.

 

“Because I’m the one who makes you come,” he quickened his pace against her. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?” 

 

Any moment he was going to walk away, leaving her to wait just as he would have to… “Uhhhh,” she groaned, as he worked her. And then, so, so quietly, “Yes, daddy.”

 

As soon as she said it, he felt her body tense, her eyes wild with alarm.Jon’s hand sped up against her. Fear mixed with pleasure she was unable to stop washed over her.She had _never_ called him that.Not even close.And if Jon had thought he had control of himself, control enough to not spill in his pants now that he was a man with a proper job and a car payment, in that moment he doubted everything he thought he knew about himself and her and what this was all about as he watched her come apart with incredible force against his fingers.

 

He crushed his mouth against hers, growling in the back of his throat, continuing to work his hand against her, turning her, bracing her back against the wall hitching up one of her legs. She moaned, out of her mind with pleasure.He pulled back to look into her eyes, which were glazed with her orgasm.“Say it again, sweetness.”All she could do was moan as he kept moving his hand against her.She was building back up and the ecstasy was painful when it came this close to the last.He brought his hand to her neck and jaw, catching her eyes at last. “Please, let me hear it again.”

 

“Daddy,” she whispered.And then, she sobbed, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”Her voice chocked away in silent pleasure.

 

“Oh, my sweet girl.”

 

She cried and sobbed and thrashed against him until lava spread thru her veins and broke every bone, fiber, cell. 

 

Her face collapsed against his shoulder and _she was crying actual tears._ Over what Jon didn’t know but, thru the fog of his own arousal, it scared him to see her like this.She was dazed and speechless as he pressed against her and whispered, “Hold on.”Her legs circled his hips and her nose feel into his neck as he carried her to her bed and tucked the covers over her.He smoothed her hair as he whispered, “I’ll be back later.” 

 

She waited for him to leave but his weight still crushed the mattress.His hand dipped back across her hair.“Are you okay?”

 

Was she?Sansa couldn’t know what she was at all.She did know the voice he used now was not his sexy voice.It was his real voice; that was connected to the Jon who didn’t play games. The same, small voice he’d used that very first night.He’d used his fingers to unravel her then too.She would often imagine his gaze above her, on her, could recall perfectly his hands on her body and she would still wake up from dreams where his kiss, _the actual weight for his lips_ , could still be felt on her mouth.

 

But what it took her nearly two years to remember about that night… what she only remembered now, that she’d met other boys at other parties and managed to kiss and fool around with a few while avoiding Robb’s wrath, now that she knew how the others treated her, what _they had expected_ , was that Jon had waited _months_ before she had even seen his cock.She’d been too naive to realize what he had done every night in the bathroom after he’d finished her.And for that reason, no matter what, she knew that Jon would never hurt her. 

 

“Sweetheart?Are you okay?”

 

“Yes,” she grabbed his empty palm and kissed it.“Go have fun.I’ll be here.”

 

But it did hurt.How much she wanted him.How long she waited.Thinking about his hands hour after hour and only feeling them a few moments.  


 

 

 

She woke, several hours later.

 

He was crawling into her bed in the dark, smelling of ale and smoke.“Sweetheart?”Still in a haze of sleep, she wordlessly spread her legs and he fell between them.They kissed each other as if he’d only been gone moments, no words needed.

 

He started to tease her with his tongue, but she ran her hands down his back, to find the top of his pants and pushed them down.She took him in her hand and for a moment, he stilled between her breasts.She felt his ragged breath on her skin and wasn’t surprised when he reached to dispense with her underwear.There was no more time for games.

 

“I don’t have-”

 

“I don’t care,” she assured him, guiding him to her entrance.He sank into her and she felt every ridge, their mouths dancing together, as his hands raised her arms above her head and their fingers twined together.He moved within her slow and steady, neither one trying to finish.She only wanted to be full of him, joined to him. 

 

Everything fell away until there was only the single body they became.Breath and motion; groans and sighs; soft against hard; bruised lips and exploding nerves endings.

 

He felt her start to convulse around him and, in his haze, only thought about pulling out when it was too late.He came shuddering into her, muffling his shouts against her neck.They stayed that way for a long time after, limp and sated, still one.

 

 

 

 

“When you cried earlier… was it me?Did I go too far?”He had pulled her against his chest as they lay tangled together.

 

“No.”He felt her shake her head.

 

“It’s all I’ve thought of all night.”

 

“I… I felt so good but I was embarrassed and also I just… I wait for it.For this.All the time.”

 

He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her face lightly.“I do too.” They were silent for a long time, their breath falling into the same rhythm. “I liked what you said,” he whispered against her forehead.“But, what made you say it?”He felt her hold her breath.“You can tell me,” her reassured.

 

“I found… a porno.”Jon didn’t need to see her to know she was blushing.“I didn’t know what it was but everything she said was stuff… I wanted to say to you.”

 

“Hmmm… like what?” his hand rubbed small circles on her back.

 

Sansa giggled.“I don’t know if I can.”Her hand stroked his chest.“Maybe another time.”

 

“Ok,” he said.“I can’t fall asleep.”

 

“I know,” she said.

 

“I have to go so…”

 

“I know.”

 

He sat up and reached for his pants.She watched as he rubbed his eyes and run a hand thru his hair.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah.It’s okay.Go.”

 

Jon kept asking her and every time her answer was the same.He kept asking her because he knew his answer would be “No, I’m not.”

 

 


	4. Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost Sansa's birthday... :)

 

iv.

 

It was 2 weeks before she saw a message pop up from him.An unusual length of time.

 

**Jon:** Good Morning.

 

**Sansa:** Hey.

 

**Jon:** How have you been?

 

**Sansa:** ok.

 

There was a long pause.Sansa couldn’t, wouldn’t let herself, say more.He wasn’t her boyfriend.She was furious that it had taken him this long to say anything to her.She had no right to be clingy.Did she? She didn’t know what she should feel or what she should expect because she’d never done any of this before.

 

She hadn’t told Jon that she had applied for an internship in White Harbor and been accepted 10 days ago.In 3 months, they would be in the same city.Robb was going back to Winterfell after graduation and then onto Riverrun to work with their uncle and other than occasional ( _and planned)_ visits from her parents…. it was 4 months of nights and weekends that they could be together.She knew on some level that she was being childish.She could have told him at any time.But her pride stopped her.Was he avoiding her?Was he done with her?If so, she would _never let him know_ that she…

 

What was she?There was no word for it.They had never gone on a date.But she trusted no one the way she trusted Jon.If she could never have him again… she couldn’t imagine it.There would always be reasons to see each other, to be at the same events.They could always sneak around.

 

But when did it stop?Would she marry - what then?What if he married?And what was the alternative?To tell her family about them?Father loved Jon but he would say he wanted better for her.Expected better for her.And really, none of that mattered because if Robb ever learned how long she and Jon had lied to him, right under his nose… he would find it unforgivable.

 

And all of these questions ruined her fantasy.The fantasy was easy and uncomplicated.The fantasy was that her and Jon were kindling that made fire and the flames were all that mattered.She just wanted the fire… not to think about what it could do if it got out of control.

 

 

**Jon:** I’ve wanted to talk to you, but thought I should give you some space.

 

 

She read his words and waited as the ellipse appeared, trying not to panic.It felt like an eternity before he sent his next message.

 

**Jon:** Being with you is amazing.But I worry that I’m hurting you.

**Jon:** I don’t want to.Ever.

 

**Sansa:** I didn’t know what it would be like when I could never see you.This year…

 

**Jon:** It sucks.

 

**Sansa:** Yeah.That’s what hurts.Not you.

 

**Jon:** But it’s not going to change.I know you aren’t happy.

 

 

She chewed her lips and wrote and rewrote her next message, not wanting to sound too eager.

 

 

**Sansa:** I got an internship in White Harbor.I’ll be there after finals.Until start of next semester.

 

**Sansa:** I wanted to tell you before but you’ve been so quiet.I thought you were mad at me.

 

**Jon:** Why would I be mad at you?

 

**Sansa:** We’ve never not talked for this long.I took it as a bad sign.

 

**Jon:** Sweetheart… not at all.

 

**Jon:** I’m SO glad you’ll be here.

 

 

 

 

 

She moved to White Harbor two days after her 21st birthday.Her father had secured her an apartment in a building with a doorman (the only way he agreed to let her go).When they dropped her off, Catelyn cautioned her to stay out of the bar scene and Ned said simply, “I trust you to be smart.”

 

An hour after they left, she had changed her clothes and taken a cab to meet Jon at a restaurant.He wanted to take her out for her birthday.She wore an A-line white cotton dress and low, strapy heels, her hair partially pulled back in a loose pony tail.

 

He was standing outside the restaurant, obviously having come from work, still in his tie.Jon had thought about getting her flowers but he had no idea what kind or if she’d even like the gesture.He knew her, from all those talks when he should have been working.Sansa didn’t care about anything that could be bought, he supposed because she could get it for herself.She wanted things that were harder: danger, adventure, surprise.She wanted things that weren’t just given to her; she wanted to earn them for herself.

 

She felt her legs shake with nerves as she walked towards him and that just seemed r _idiculous_ but they had never eaten dinner together, alone.

 

The restaurant was dimly lit and already crowded when the host led them inside.Jon’s hand rested on the small of her back as they wove around the tables and the touch spread gooseflesh across her body. Their’s was a curved booth near the back.They scooted in and were left with the menus.

 

“What’s good here?” she asked, trying to be casual.

 

“I don’t know, never been.It was the restaurant closest to your apartment that had tablecloths.”

 

“Oh… but Jon, we don’t have to be somewhere fancy.”She knew that money stressed him and instantly felt guilty.

 

Jon smiled at her and scooted closer to her.“I wanted tablecloths so I could do this.”He didn’t break eye contact as she felt his hand run over her knee and down her inner thigh until it was under her dress.But no where near as high she needed it, maddeningly. He rested it there.Her breath caught in her throat.He smiled at her.His thumb brushed back and forth. “I’m so glad you wore a dress.I like it very much.”

 

Her eyes sparkled at him.

 

Jon had used the better part of the last three months to read up on what Sansa might like, based on the last time her saw her and what he knew about all the times they had been together.Once he got over being freaked out that he seemed to ( _really fucking) like_ what she called him ( _that he had wanked a hell of a lot to the memory of the sound of her voice saying that word),_ he had decided that he needed to be ready to guide her.That’s what he’d always done.And telling her how good she was… was easy. He had always done it, it was just much more deliberate now.

 

The waiter arrived and told them the specials.She didn’t hear any of it. She was too fixated on trying to control her breathing, aware of how wet she was becoming, as she spread her legs ever so slightly, trying to encourage him to move higher but he didn’t, at all.Then the waiter asked for their drinks and Sansa realized she could order something, maybe a nice glass of wine.But Jon’s voice was clear and commanding, “Just water, sparkling would be fine.”

 

As the waiter walked off, Jon’s hand inched higher, still so, so far from where she wanted it.Jon’s voice pulled her eyes back to him.“I’d like for your senses to not be dulled tonight.That okay?”

 

“Yes.” _Gods, she’s like her senses to be stimulated more right now._

 

“Good.”Then he squeezed her thigh and removed his hand (and she almost screamed at him) and started asking her about her internship, and what her girlfriends were up to during break and what she wanted to do while she was in the city.They ordered and the food came, and they laughed as they chatted on about shows they liked and how badly the Direwolves had done last season.

 

Their plates had been cleared when the waiter asked if he could bring the dessert menu.Jon smiled and said, “It wouldn’t hurt to look.”As the waiter went to retrieve the list, she felt his hand return to her thigh and move higher, more boldly than before.She gulped.

 

He smiled at her and asked, “What color are they?” As simply as he’d asked her if she had watched the new season of Brooklyn Nine-nine. 

 

Sansa smiled back.She had him.“I think you’ll know, once you feel them.”

 

Jon’s fingers danced up the inside of her thigh as he leaned in to give her the most chaste, light kiss on her lips.Sansa’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt his lips and then one of his knuckles as it brushed against her slit.

 

Jon pulled back. _Nothing.The whole time.. there was nothing._ He looked at those blue eyes shinning back at him, and her soft pink lips hanging open just a little too much to be lady-like.

 

“Here we are, sir.Dessert,” the waiter said as he offered Jon the menu.

 

“On second thought, I think the check will do,” his voice still perfectly in control and unhurried.

 

 

He’d had to remove his jacket before they left the booth, so he could carry it out to hide the growing tent in his pants.As she walked ahead of him, and out into the warmth of the street, Sansa had no idea what would happen next. Would he take her to his apartment?Find a bathroom or an alley?Whatever he chose, she knew she wouldn’t say no.

 

“Let’s walk this way,” he said, gesturing up the street.“There’s a bakery that has really good sweets.”

 

“Okay,” she said, faltering a bit.What was he up to?

 

He held the door for her when they walked in the bakery, two short blocks away.They didn’t talk of much on the way there; Sansa trying to figure out what was coming next, and Jon trying to figure out what he was going to do.

 

He knew he was the one in charge; his role had been set by default from the first time he touched her. But he wanted to teach her other things too. That she didn’t have to worry so much about _if_ he would satisfy her, that he always would and she could trust in that.He wanted her to forget how much she wanted him, so he could remind her.He wanted to catch her off guard.

 

When they got to the counter, he told the woman it was her birthday.

 

“How wonderful, happy birthday!”Sansa smiled.

 

“Pick anything you want,” Jon said.

 

Sansa looked at the case of gorgeous cakes, knowing that no matter what she chose, it would delay them being alone together.“I…am so full from dinner.I don’t know,” she tried to deflect.

 

“Come on,” Jon said with a smile.“I’ll split it with you.I’d like a coffee, too.”The woman nodded and looked back at Sansa.

 

Frustrated beyond belief, she said, “The lemon, I suppose.”

 

When they got to the little cafe table, they sat across from each other.Jon wasted no time, handing her the fork.“First bite has to be yours.”

 

She looked down and stabbed the cake a little too forcefully.Taking a fairly big bite, she handed the fork back to him.Jon looked at her, his face placid as a frozen lake. Sansa felt something rising in her that she didn’t particularly like but could not push down.

 

Under the table, she rubbed one of her knees against his. His eyes gazed back at hers.She did it again.  
  
Jon reached across the table and took her hand, pulling her gently as he leaned in.“Sansa,” he whispered patiently.“I’m going to make you come tonight.More than once.But there’s no rush.In fact, waiting for it… anticipating it… I think that’s what you like.Am I right?”

 

_By the freaking Seven._ Shame and awe and arousal washed over her.Shame for being so eager, awe for how he knew just what to say to her and arousal, well, because she had this beautiful, attentive man sitting across from her, treating her far better than she probably deserved.She knew Jon was a person but sometimes, her desire made him a means to an end.And she hated herself for that, and she… she… he was understanding of her, rather than judging her. _He sees me.He doesn’t just want to use me to get off, he…he…_

 

A thought tried to enter her mind but she slammed a door on it before she could see its face.

 

Jon’s eyes were soft on hers.He asked her again, with so much kindness, “Am I right?”

 

She took a very deep, shaky breath before she answered, “Yes.”

 

Jon nodded once.“So I’m going to make you wait.But I promise, you’ll get what you want for your birthday.Because you’re such a good girl. I like to give my good, sweet girl everything she wants.”He smiled at her but his eyes were mischievous and Sansa bit her lip in response because she was speechless.“So I'd like you to sit here with me, and enjoy your cake, and think about what you want for your birthday so you can tell me later, when I ask.Okay?”

 

“Okay,” her voice was a squeak.Her hand trembled as she picked up her fork and took the smallest bit of cake and brought it to her lips. _Good girls didn’t rush._ She took her time, enjoying the taste.He watched her lick her lips and swallow.Sansa tentatively said, “It’s delicious.” _Daddy._ But she couldn’t say it.Not yet.Her cheeks flushed bright red when she thought it.Jon gave her a quizzical look, as he noticed the crimson spreading down her neck.“Thank you for getting me the cake,” she managed.

 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Jon smiled as he took his own bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: What will Sansa ask for? (give me your ideas!)


	5. I Had a Thought, Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of Sansa's birthday.
> 
> ***FAIR WARNING*** the Daddy Kink gets dialed up to about 1000 in this chapter. If it's not your thing, please skip this chapter. You'll be able to enjoy the rest of the story regardless of if you read it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much to everyone who has commented, I have tried to answer a majority of them. Many of you suggested spanking and some 'tied up' for this chapter, so I tried to incorporate it. :) You're comments really do mean the world to me; it has been a long time since I've been inspired to write anything and it feels great to get positive feedback!

v.

 

They walked thru a park with a beautiful fountain after the bakery.The sun was casting long shadows as it set behind the city.He put his jacket over her shoulders.They found a vintage shop with old maps of Westeros all over the walls and went in to look.They kept wandering until Jon stopped in front of a door next to a deli.Sansa was chatting on about a seminar she’d taken on religion and politics with so much passion, she didn’t fully register they were no longer moving.She kept talking and Jon stood in front of her, slowly moving his hands to her hips and melding them to his.

 

Sansa stopped talking.

 

Jon brushed a lock of hair behind her shoulder, barely grazing her breast with the back of his hand.Sansa sucked in a breath at his touch.

 

“Have you decided what you’d like for your birthday?”

 

“I… yess…” 

 

He watched her lower lip quiver, unable to form words.He need to give her permission.“Tell Daddy what you want, sweetheart.”

 

Her heart thundered in her chest.He was so much better at this than her.“I want… to be your good girl.And do just as you say.”

 

He’d hoped that giving her time to think about it would let her voice more clearly what she wanted him to do.But Jon had other ideas to get her to talk.“You like to please Daddy?”

 

“Yes.So much.”She pressed her hips into him.

 

Jon leaned into her then and kissed her forehead.He swept a hand thru her hair and he drew back to look at her.With his other hand, he found hers and laced their fingers together.“Sansa, tell me what you’ll say if you don’t like something I do.”

 

“I’ll just tell you no.”

 

“And you know I want you to say it, if there’s anything you don’t like.”

 

She gave him a confused look. _I have never doubted._ “Yes, Jon.I trust you.”She squeezed his hand.

 

The hand in her hair moved to her jaw and he kissed her.In the middle of the sidewalk, he plunging his tongue into her mouth and she met him with equal force.Her hands clenched his shirt as she felt his slide up her waist, until they just barely cupped her breasts. She felt him pull away and reach for his pocket.He pulled her towards the door.

 

“My apartment’s upstairs.”He fumbled with his key. He was breathless, and her heart leapt that she was the reason.

 

 

 

She stepped through the door and he guided her to the middle of his apartment.“Don’t move, okay?”She could hear the strain in his voice.Jon moved around her, turning on two lamps that bathed the room in low, golden light.It was a studio, neat and tidy, but nothing frivolous.A print of the city skyline leaned against one wall and was the only decor to speak of.She saw the bed.It was made with a gray comforter and two pillows.

 

She looked at Jon.In the darkened room, his features had changed. Only one word came to mind: hungry.He looked hungry.

 

It occurred to her then… no one was going to barge in thru the door.Jon wasn’t going to have to sneak off when they were done.This could go on as long as they wanted.She could be as loud as she wanted.She was in this room with him and had asked him to do what he wanted.She shivered.

 

He walked towards her and then around to her back.She felt a hand at the base of her neck.“You wore such a pretty dress tonight, my sweet girl.You made yourself look so nice for me.But now it’s time to take it off, don’t you think?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes, what?”

 

Sansa felt the blush rise in her cheeks.Jon waited. “Yes, Daddy.”He slowly lowered the zipper down her back. She hoped he would like what he saw.

 

Jon eased the dress down her body and let it pool at her feet.Nothing underneath.He had suspected.He let a hand drift over her bum.“Do good girls leave the house without anything on under their dress?”He walked around to face her.

 

“No, that was naughty of me.”Sansa nearly giggled.This felt so good and so strange.

 

“Who are you talking to, sweet girl?”Jon’s face was level with hers; so close she could kiss him.

 

She hesitated only a moment.“Daddy.”She watched him take a deep breath and close his eyes.Like he was savoring the smell of something sweet.

 

“It pleases Daddy when you call him that.”

 

“Yes, Daddy.”

 

He stroked her cheek and paused, searching her eyes for something. Then he began loosening his tie. “So if you have been naughty, do you need a spanking?”

 

Sansa smiled and bit her lip.“Yes.Daddy.”

 

Jon took her hands and brought them together.He started to tie his necktie around her wrists. When he finished, it wasn’t too tight but it thrilled her.

 

He walked across the room and out of her line of vision.She heard his voice, soft but firm. “Spread your legs.Bend over and take off your heels.”

 

She bent at her waist, legs spread as he asked, unbuckling each strap slowly.Her ass wiggled as she struggled against the tie to make used of her hands.She felt the cool air and his gaze on her lips.She wanted to touch herself so badly, anything to feel some relief.Electricity prickled through her.The instant she began to stand, she heard him again, “Stay there.”

 

She heard him move but he stayed behind her, out of her line of sight.

 

“Do you promise to be a good girl from now on?” 

 

His hand landed hard on her ass, twice in short succession.She yelped.“Yes, Daddy.”

 

“Only good girls get cock in their pussies.Do you want my cock in your pussy?”

 

“Yes, Daddy.So much.” _Gods, I’m going to die from arousal, I’m going to die._

 

“Then you’ll never leave the house without your bra and panties again, unless you have permission.”

 

“Yes, Daddy.I understand.”

 

“Good girl.” Jon cupped her chin and guided her back up to face him. As he untied her wrists, he said, “Look at how beautiful your tits are.I’ve missed my pretty girl’s tits so much.Make your nipples hard so I can suck them.”

 

“Yes, Daddy.”Without hesitation, she took her nipples between her now free fingers and began playing with them.Jon watched her, inhaling deeply again, and she felt a spasm between her legs.

 

“You’re so pretty when you touch yourself, when you move like that.” He put his hands on her waist.“It pleases me very much.”He took one of her hands away and wrapped his mouth around the stiff peak.She groaned shamelessly.He’d hardly touched her yet and she felt like she could come apart.He moved to the other breast and his hands stayed on her waist and she was dying to feel more of him anywhere.She let out another moan that was almost a sob.“You’re being so good.You listen to so well.”He brought a hand up to her face and stroked her cheek.He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Would you like to be eaten or fucked?”

 

“Fuck me, Daddy.Please.”

 

“Are you wet for my cock?

 

“I’m so wet. So wet for you, Daddy.”She didn’t even have to think, the words just spilled from her mouth.

 

“Show me how wet your pretty pussy is.Get on the bed with your ass up.”

 

She immediately obeyed.From her hands and knees, she looked over her shoulder.Jon hadn’t moved.He stared at her.She pleaded at him with her eyes but didn’t make a sound.He reached for his shirt and undid a button.“Tell me how bad you want my cock.”

 

“So bad, Daddy.So bad.I think about it all the time.”He’d only undone two buttons.

 

“Keep talking, sweet girl.I want to hear what you think about when you’re alone in your bed.”

 

“I think about you.”

 

Jon’s eyes never left hers but as soon as she stopped talking, he stopped working his buttons.

 

“I… I play with myself and imagine you thrusting into me with your big cock.I play with myself all the time.”

 

His shirt was off, followed quickly by his undershirt.

 

“I use my fingers but my fingers are never enough, only your cock can fill my pussy.”

 

He was working his belt open. 

 

“Even when I make myself cum, even when it’s more than once, I still ache for your cock.I dream of it.” 

 

His pants were off.Sansa panted helplessly on the bed.She couldn’t move despite the fact that nothing was stopping her.She just wanted to be good for him.

 

He pushed down his boxers and she saw him, straight, hard and thick for her. He walked towards her slowly.Stroked a hand over her ass gently, again.She felt him at her entrance as he leaned forward to kiss between her shoulder blades.It was the first time he’d touched her there since they were in the restaurant, an eternity ago.Sansa shook with effort as he rested there, willing herself to not push herself onto his length.“Tell me what you dream about, sweetheart.”

 

“You… you’re always so gentle when you put it in me.” He started to penetrate her, inch by inch.She moaned and dropped to her elbows, pushing her ass higher.He stilled once he was fully inside her, waiting, she realized for her to say more. “And it’s slow and you play with my clit.”

 

And he did.He was slow, agonizingly slow, as he stroked his cock in and out of her.One of his hands snaked around her hip and softly circle her clitShe felt her walls twitch around him and her legs begin to shake beyond her control.She was so sensitive, so aroused.Her body tried to clamp her legs shut but Jon used his own knees to keep her open.He stroked in and out of her countless times.His free hand clutched her hip in contrast to his moments.He pulled out of her just as she was on the brink and increased the pressure on her clit.

 

She lost all control.She shuddered and came against his hand, gasping for air, flying somewhere above them as her head sank into the matress.His hands went to her back and stroked her as she fell back down.

 

“What happens next, sweetheart?”

 

“I feel warm everywhere and I’m so wet it spreads down my thighs.I beg you to put it in deeper, and harder so you fill me and stretch me.”

 

He drove into her in one commanding thrust.She moaned, the sound shocking to her own ears.He thrust into her again, with long hard, patient strokes. She heard the sounds their bodies made as they snapped together.He didn’t have to ask her, she couldn’t stop herself from babbling on.

 

“And you… you fuck my pussy so good, Daddy.You fuck me until I cum and you don’t stop and I cum again.You fuck me so hard, Daddy, your balls slap against my clit and I forget my name.”Jon growled behind her, giving her just what she described.She let out high pitched squeaks each time he burried himself to the hilt.

 

“Don’t stop Daddy,” she cried.“Fill me with your cum, spread it inside me.Fuck me Daddy, fuck me, fuck me.”

 

She collapsed flat on to the bed from the force of Jon’s thrusts.He fell with her and kept going, grabbing her ass cheeks in his hands.She bit the sheets, muffling her screams, as he claimed her with a force he never had before.Her mouth hung open and she waited to explode into a million tiny pieces, as though the very fabric of her body would cease to exist because it could not contain this much pleasure.She felt her walls begin to contract again.

 

“I’m going to fill you up, little girl.” Pleasure washed over her as his thrust became erratic.“Cum on my cock.Cum for Daddy.”She came apart around him, just as she heard Jon shout and moan behind her, and she felt the warmth of his seed flow within her.

 

His chest collapsed against her back.He gasped for air and shook against her, just as she shook beneath him, her ecstasy still coursing thru her veins.Everything was damp with sweat and arousal, as his hips still moved softly against her.He kissed her neck, then shuddered as he slipped from her heat.

 

He rolled off of her onto his back.Their eyes met; both of them still gasping for air.

 

Jon reached for her.With heavy limbs, he gathered her to him.“Sansaaa…” he whispered against her.Long moments passed.Slowly, their heart rates returned to normal.

 

Their eyes met again.They said nothing. What are the right words to say after such an experience?Each knew that what they saw in the others eyes was nothing _bad_ , and so neither felt any shame.

 

“Do you think you can stand?”

 

“I don’t know, honestly.”

 

“Come,” he said, rolling off the bed and reaching for her hands.

 

“Jon, I don’t know if I can go again.”

 

“Neither can I,” he said with a laugh.“Get in the shower with me.”

 

 

 

They had never been able to do this before; everything had always been so rushed and stollen.Under the warm water, Jon rubbed his soapy hands over her body and Sansa could have stayed there forever, asking for nothing more.Just the feel of his hands, how gentle he was, how safe she felt.And when he moved to kiss her, it was truly just about kissing her, being lost together, with no destination.As the water splashed over them and their hands wandered over each other’s skin and their eyes kept meeting with awe and reverence, unspoken words echoed against the tile walls. _This is what love feels like._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little FYI: If I could pick a song to play over the last paragraph of this chapter, it would be Like Real People Do, by Hozier, which is what the chapter title references.


	6. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly plot - but it had to be done.

vi.

 

 

In the still, dark hours of the early morning, they were on his bed facing each other, her in one of his gray t’s, he in nothing but the sheets.One of his hands drifted from her hair to her hip, while hers stayed tucked under her chin.She loved his eyes, never got to look into them enough, though now, perhaps that would change.

 

“Will it ruin it… if we talk about it?”

 

“I don’t think so,” he said.“What do you want to know?”

 

“I guess… do you think I’m a freak?”

 

“No.I’ve never been with anyone who likes what you like but I know there are lots of women who do.It’s like asking me why I like to wear black - it’s just what I like.It’s what you like, and that’s okay.”

 

She nodded.

 

“Do _you_ know why you like it?” he asked.

 

“Well, I always think, I never stop, you know that… when you tell me what to do, I don’t have to think, just feel, be no where but here.”Sansa shrugged.“And… because I shouldn’t - want those things, say those things.That’s a really big part of it.I’m never… I’m always what other people expect or that’s what they see - they think they know what I am.But deep down, I’m not.”

 

“Is that why you like us being together?Because you know other people wouldn’t expect it?”

 

“No.You… I like being with you because of how you are.Who you are.I can only be that way because I know you would never, never hurt me.”

 

“No, I wouldn’t."

 

“Do you feel like you get what you want?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, you always ask me what I want.I never ask you.”

 

“Yeah.”Jon paused and gave her a half smile. “I get off on making you wet and making you cum.Before anything else, that’s it.I like hearing you, when you’re so turned on and knowing that I did that.And I really love to hear you say dirty stuff.No matter what it is.I like that… I can get you to a point where you lose your inhibitions.The other kinky stuff is just fun. Like jumping out of an airplane - it’s a rush.But if you didn’t want to do it, it’s fine.I’m pretty sure I could still make you cum.”

 

“Oh goodness.”She rolled her eyes.

 

“What, you disagree?I have always been able to make you cum, Sansa Stark.I always will," he teased.

 

In spite of herself, she blushed and smiled.

 

“And you’re so beautiful when you cum.Did you know that?”

 

“Sometimes I feel like my face has to be just, so… silly looking.”

 

“No.Not at all. You’re beautiful all the time, but especially when you cum.And I like being the one who gets to see it.” He hesitated a moment and then, “I have another question.Are you on birth control?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Ok.I wanted to make sure because-“

 

“I know.I’ve been meaning to tell you that, 100%, so you don’t have to worry.”

 

He nodded.He reached for her and pulled her close. “There hasn’t been anyone else for a long while.I want you to know that.Not since well before you told me you were moving down here.”

 

“Me too.Never anyone else, full on, anyway.”

 

“Really?”

 

“No.… I’ve fooled around with some guys, but never near all the way because… sex just isn’t that fun when you don’t trust the other person.”

 

“You're very right about that.”

 

 

______________________________________

 

Text SMS: Robb & Sansa

 

 

Robb: Call me as soon as you get this.

 

Robb: Right now, please.

 

Robb: Sansa, I need to talk to you.

 

Robb: Please call me.

 

Robb: CALL ME.RIGHT NOW.SANSA.DO NOT DO ANYTHING UNTIL YOU CALL ME.

 

 

_________________________________________________

 

 

 

There were so many things about that morning he would never forget. 

 

It had been after nearly midnight when they finally drifted off to sleep in mid-conversation.He had awoken hours later to find himself rock hard and her ass fit against it, stirring in her sleep.When their hips shifted against each other and started to find a rhythm, he knew she was awake.He sucked on her neck and palmed her breast thru the t-shirt and she moaned _please_ and reached a hand behind herself to find him, position him, where she wanted him.She was more than ready and he lifted her leg to give him a better angle.He held her back to his chest and their movements went from lazy and sleep drenched to urgent.He wouldn’t last long and eventually abandon her leg in favor of reaching around to strum her clit.As soon as they came apart, quietly, shaking together, they fell back asleep, his hand clutching her breast possessively.

 

When he woke next, the dull light of early morning was inching thru the blinds.It made her hair glitter all the colors of fire, gold and red and orange, and he pushed his nose into her neck and his chest tighter against her back and willed himself to doze longer.

 

How at some point, she rolled over and smiled at him, her blue eyes meeting his before she tucked her head against his chest.She laced their fingers together, before he drifted off again.

 

How the third time he woke up, he didn’t move.He just breathed in her scent and logged the sound of her breath when she slept and the weight of her leg that was curled against his hip.The light changed on the walls he laid there so long, and when he realized it, he willed time to freeze.So they would always be this age, in this place, at this point in their lives, when he had yet to screw anything up with her, because life had taught Jon nothing lasted forever.Thank the Gods and curse them for it, all at once.

 

He thought about the night before.Her eyes shining at him during dinner, how beautiful she looked in that dress.What he felt like to be the man who was walking with her down the street - on top of the world.And the sex… _Gods_ what she did to him. What it felt like to have her trust him so fully, to be with someone when he was completely himself.  What it felt like to look in her eyes and see so much desire.What it felt like to look in her eyes after coming inside her and saying all those filthy things and see… joy, acceptance. _It’s love you fucking fool._

 

He’d known for a long time that he loved her and that was his cross to bear - the price he would pay for being the one who touched her first and all the heightened, forbidden mind games that came with why he shouldn’t have.But he had assumed that all of this would wear off for her.And maybe it still would.Maybe all it would take would be for her to meet a man she found attractive and shag him and then he would no longer be her flavor.Maybe once she realized the price she would have to pay to be with him - either continuing to hide or pissing off a lot of people she loved - well, if it didn’t end them quickly, it would probably slowly choke their love until it died. But right now, Jon knew without her saying it, what she felt.And he knew it meant that one way or another her heart would end up broken.By him or her family.

 

He was going to try damn hard to ensure it wasn’t by him.But it all seemed impossible.

 

Jon remembered how, when he heard his phone buzzing, he considered not moving and letting her sleep.He considered remaining in this bubble they had made and seeing how long it would last.They could order Chinese and not leave bed.At least for the rest of the weekend.But he did, ever so gently, roll his arm out from underneath her head and move to answer it.

 

The screen said it was Robb. _Oh FUCK, how could he know?_ His mouth went dry, but he still picked up.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey man, I need your help.”

 

Jon stepped into his bathroom and shut the door.“Okay.What’s up?”

 

“I need you to go to Sansa’s apartment, I’ll text you the address.I… she won’t answer her phone and I have to tell her something before she finds out about it some other way.My dad… my dad’s dead.”Robb cleared his throat, and then fell silent.

 

For a moment, all he could hear was both their breaths on the line.“Robb, I… I…”

 

Robb's voice came in a detached rush.  “My parents dropped her off in town yesterday, I can’t imagine why she would already be so busy to not answer, but if you are there… maybe she shouldn’t be alone anyway, when I tell her.There’s so much to do, I’m on my way home.My mom is… overwhelmed.”

 

“Robb, I can… it’s no trouble. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Have you seen the news?”

 

“No.”

 

“It’s all over.He was flying to Kings Landing, with a couple of other politicians and businessmen. It blew up on the runway.Robert Baratheon is dead, too.”

 

“I don’t know what to say, man.”

 

“I don’t want her to see it on her phone or TV.”

 

“I get it, just um, I’ll take care of it.”

 

“Yeah, ok, thanks.I gotta go.I’ll send you her address.”

 

The line was dead. 

He was numb with dread as the conversation just began to register in his mind.  Her father was dead.

He cracked the door and looked at her.In his bed, she was still asleep in his t-shirt, hair still glittering in the morning light, her whole face relaxed and blissful.He was going to have to wake her up and change her life.But for another 15 minutes, Jon let her sleep.


	7. The Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly a year after Ned's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was especially hard for me to write, because it forced me to make a decision about this story. I have always known where I wanted to take this story, and certain events that would bring these characters together, but not exactly how each chapter would play out. I couldn't force this one to go any other way.
> 
> I hope readers will stick with them through the more difficult periods in their lives! I am humbled by all of the positive feedback I have received on this story!

vii.

 

Jon was on his way to relieve himself when he saw her.Well, really just an ankle and her cobalt blue heel, sticking out from behind one of those ridiculous fake trees they keep in these reception halls.He knew it was her because he’d taken note of what she was wearing: a deep, dark, navy body-con dress that was 3 inches too short and those heels.Her legs went on for days, her red hair hung down her back, lush as ever, but that dress… wasn’t her.

 

He thought it had something to do with the guy she was with.A slimy, pompous blonde who had wheeled her around the room with his hand on the small of her back but never bothered to look at her or let her put a word in a conversation.Apparently, he was quite well known and rich, and his father had died with hers, but Jon couldn’t give a fuck who he was.All he knew was that Sansa was getting more and more drunk and that fucker was allowing it, even being short with her when she tripped in her shoes. 

 

Which is probably why she had wandered away on her own at some point.

 

There was press in the banquet room and Jon knew he should probably warn Robb about her condition.Maybe help sneak her out. But that seemed foolish.Robb was quite busy these days.

 

Robb.Jon understood why he was doing it - running for his father’s seat on the Council of Westeros.Like most men, emotions made him uncomfortable, so Robb was channeling everything he felt about his father’s death into a campaign.His mother was supporting this diversion, probably for similar reasons.And Sansa, with all of her pain and confusion, was left to her own devices.

 

He had driven her to Winterfell that day, nearly a year ago. One of the longest car rides of his life.Barely any words were said. She was practically comatose from shock, completely unreachable, and yet he could still feel the imprint her body had left on him limbs from the night before.It was a Saturday, and on Sunday, he had turned around and driven back alone.He saw her at the funeral but she never returned to her internship.Her family had sent her back to college, along with Arya who was now a freshman, but they didn’t talk much anymore.At all really.He’d tried.But she had ignored him

 

From what Theon had told him, who was his only source of intel as the resident 7th year senior and party boy, she wasn’t sober most of the time.

 

Five times in the last 8 months, Jon had received messages or calls from her.They were all late at night, usually on a weekday, which had led Jon to make a habit of turning up the volume on his ringer before going to bed. The first few times he had called her back the next morning; she never answered.He always asked her where she was, if she was safe.He would stay on the phone with her until she said she was home.Once it was for phone sex, and he’d half-heartedly obliged, even though he knew she was drunk and neither one of them finished.He couldn’t tell her no.She had cried that she was ugly and he had called her all of the things he hadn’t called her in a long time until she fell asleep.

 

He wasn’t sure if she remembered because the next time, she hadn’t mentioned it at all.Most recently, she was drunk again, but this time it was as if she had forgotten they were older.She was herself back in her sophomore year, when they were sneaking around campus, full of laughter and flirtatious mischief, and he’d had to remind her that he lived in White Harbor now.“Well that’s some bullshit,” she had slurred, and hung up.

 

He had debated not coming, to this fundraising dinner, in which Robb planned to announce his engagement to one of his staffers, (because of course he was, just another band-aid for the open wound).But it was essentially an engagement party and Robb said it only made sense for him to be there.Jon would be the best man and he needed to meet the bride.Which had already happened, and she seemed to be nice enough.But now, Jon can’t figure out why he’s here, or who to talk to, or where to stand when it’s clear that even in his best dress shirt and tie, he looks like one of the bartenders, not a guest.

 

Jon had imagined speaking to Sansa in person for the first time since the funeral many times, in many scenarios.But he hadn’t imagined she would be in a hallway, sitting on the floor behind a plastic plant, with a cocktail and her cell phone, legs bent up and falling open, her short dress pushed up to reveal a scrap of fabric between her legs that covered _nothing._ He hadn’t imagined that she would be awake but her eyes would be dead.

 

“Sweetheart, we need to get you back up on your feet,” he said, gently.

 

She looked at him for a long moment, with confusion, and then back down at her phone.

 

Squatting down in front of her, he touched her arm and said her name.Her head lolled against the wall. 

 

The pain that had started to bloom inside Jon’s chest from the moment he saw her tonight, expanded at a furious pace.He wanted to wash every sadness out of her, to reach inside and pull out what ever was killing the Sansa he had known.But all he could do in that moment, was damage control.He’d always been good at that.

 

Gently, Jon straightened her legs and pushed them together, trying to preserve her dignity.“I’m going to get you some water.”He figured she probably wouldn’t move if he left for a moment and he didn’t want to call attention to her.

 

He ran into Arya on his way to the bar.“Hey, I need your help, with your sister,” he said in a hushed tone.

 

“Hurricane Sansa?I am off duty tonight.”

 

Jon smirked despite himself.His affection for Arya was almost stronger than his friendship with Robb.He had met her when she was 10 and she had been just as mouthy and quick witted then.“Arya, she’s a mess.”

 

“She is like that all the time, Jon.I deal with it at school, all the time.”

 

“And you shouldn’t have to, I get it.But Arya, we have to get her out of here before someone from the press gets a very embarrassing photo of her.”

 

“What, so Robb’s train doesn’t get derailed?Like I care; this spectacle is ridiculous.”She crossed her arms over her chest, looking resolute.

 

Jon had no time to argue with her, so he cut right to it.“Then do it for your father.”She leveled him with her eyes and huffed.But Jon stood his ground, “He’s not here to protect any of you, so you need to protect each other.I know she’s a pain in your arse Arya, but you don’t want all of the internet to see her like this.”

 

She summoned a deep breath.“Yeah, fine.But you’re sneaking me a drink after this.”

 

He led her down the hall.When Arya saw her, she became concerned.“She usually never shuts up when she drinks.Sansa.Sansa!”she said, slapping her arm.“What did you take?Tell me right now.”

 

“Has she been taking other stuff?” Jon asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

 

“No, but… I don’t know what she would or wouldn’t do anymore.”

 

They couldn’t get her to talk no matter what they tried.“We can take her to my room, but I’m sharing a suite with Bran and Rickon.That could really be a mess,” Arya said.

 

“Just take her to mine then,” Jon said.“You can stay there with her and I’ll stay with the boys.”

 

“Fine.Ugh, I hate her for being like this,” Arya said, sliding under one of her arms and pressing up with her legs.

 

Jon grabbed her other arm and steadied her.Together, they walked to the elevator, Sansa somehow managing to walk with them.

 

“Oh, there you are!” said a male voice.“I was looking for my date.”They turned around to see the blonde dickhead walking towards them.

 

“She’s drunk, Joffery,” Arya said, matter of factly.“We’re taking her upstairs.”

 

“I have a room, I’m sure I can take it from here.” His voice was laced with too much sweetness and Jon’s blood boiled instantly.He’d known it from the minute he’d watched her be paraded around the room like a show pony on his arm.He was _that_ kind of guy, and over Jon’s dead body would he take her anywhere.

 

But it seemed Jon was superfluous in this situation.

 

“Well, I don’t agree,” Arya cut back quickly, transferring all of Sana’s weight to Jon and stepping forward to stand toe to toe with the much taller man.“And my vote is the one that counts right now, since she can’t speak for herself. Why don’t you slither off and find a different toy to play with?I’m sure it doesn’t matter to you.”

 

Joffery glared at Arya, adjusted his tie, and marched into the banquet hall. 

 

Jon had both his arms around Sansa’s waist to keep her upright and she had pushed her face into his neck.She almost smelled the same, if not for the addition of liquor; it was all he could do to not close his eyes and breathe deeply.So long, it had been _so long_ since he had been this close to her. He was almost sad when Arya rejoined him to assist with the walk to the elevator.

 

When they got to his room, Arya asked him to stay while she got her bag from the suite.While she was gone, Jon tucked Sansa into bed and managed to get a little water into her.

 

At one point, she realized it was him.She said his name and grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast and held it there.“I miss you, Jon.I miss you.”

 

He knows it doesn’t mean anything.Knows she can’t forgive herself and therefore can’t forgive him.It was one of the only things she said to him, on that car ride to Winterfell.

 

_“I didn’t even look at his face.He hugged me goodbye and I barely hugged him back, I was so fucking worried about getting into that dress for dinner I couldn’t even look at his face.I’m such a piece of shit.”_

 

She had cried and he had listened and he didn’t try to argue her feelings were wrong because what did he know about losing a father?He’d never had one. 

 

If she could turn back time, of course, it would be different.And he would say the same.Hug him longer.Tell him not to get on the plane.Wait a day longer to take her out for dinner, make a later reservation.Any of it; all of it.

 

“I miss you, too, sweetheart.”He moves his hand off of her, so that he’s just holding her’s.And he sits with her, as she sleeps, and offers to keep doing it, when Ayra returns and says she wants to go back downstairs.

 

He woke like that, next to her in bed, still holding her hand but otherwise a mile between them.He turned to look at her and her eyes were open.And she was in them, aware, staring at him.

 

She pulled her hand away from him and bit her lip to keep from crying.“I don’t know what happened.” Her voice was small, fearful.

 

Jon wanted to reach for her face and stroke her cheek.Or pull her into his arms.Or kiss her and make her forget everything that had happened until they were back in White Harbor in his flat, in his bed, with nothing but time before them.

 

Instead, he didn’t move, but quietly said, “You weren’t doing so well so Arya helped me get you to bed.She went back to the party but should be back.What time is it?”Jon looked around the room for a clock.

 

“Robb… did I ruin… did I-“

 

“No, no, I don’t think anyone knew.Gods, it’s 7am.Where did Arya end up?”

 

“She hates me, I’m not surprised.”She rolled on to her back and moaned, hands moving to her head, in pain.

 

“She doesn’t hate you, she was worried about you.”

 

“Oh yes, everyone is worried about me, poor, weak Sansa.”

 

“Well, shouldn’t they be?”

 

“Fuck you, Jon.”

 

There was nothing playful about her tone; she meant it aggressively, furiously.Jon took a deep calming breath and pushed himself off the bed.“Arya’s bag is in that corner.She might have some clothes you can change into.I’m going to leave you alone for a few minutes.”

 

“Jon, wait-“

 

“If she doesn’t have anything, you can take these,” he said, reaching into his own bag for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and placing them on the console.“I don’t need them back.”

 

“Jon…”

 

He stood at the foot her bed and looked down at her, sitting up hugging her knees into her chest.Both of them were breathing hard.

 

“Sansa, I’ve no right to tell you what to do or how to deal with…but you weren’t just drunk last night, you were incoherent - like you were drugged.I’d stay away from that guy you were with because I’ve seen girls who have had stuff put in their drinks and that’s what you looked like.”

 

Rage and pain and sadness and shame swirled together on her face but she didn’t break eye contact.Her eyes were starting to water.He didn’t know if he should reach for her or give her privacy.A lump was rising in his throat.

 

“I don’t want that for you,” he whispered.“You need to take care of yourself.”She whimpered, hiding her face. 

 

And he moved to her, aware that he might be slapped, prepared to take it.He sat next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.Knowing it was dangerous, knowing he probably shouldn’t touch her at all.But to not touch her… was an impulse he couldn’t fight.She choked and started to shudder.Any resolve he had gone, he gathered her into his lap like a toddler, wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against his chest.

 

And she cried, like a wounded animal.And he rocked her.Until his shirt was damp with tears and snot.Until one of his legs fell asleep. 

 

“I never stop thinking,” she said, between her sobs. “You know that.How I treated him… that last day.And why.And no one… I can’t talk about it.No one understands why I feel so guilty, why I hate myself.”

 

Until she stopped making noise but still took breaths that were jagged and halting, like she had to remind herself to do it at all.

 

Until her hand started kneading his bicep.And through his pants, he felt heat and wet in his lap, coming off of her because that tiny dress did nothing to conceal it.

 

She met his eyes; her expression was needy and soft.“I just want to forget.Everything.Who I am, how I feel.”

 

She slid a hand under his shirt, up his back as she leaned her lips towards his neck.

 

For a fraction of a moment, he felt himself sigh.His desire to do what she was asking was strong.His body remembered her smell and it still longed for her.

 

But he knew that if he did this, if he gave into her, let her use him like she was using the booze, he would never be able to look her in those sparkling blue eyes again.

 

He pulled away, shifting her hips back onto the bed, standing and putting three steps between them before she knew what was happening.

 

“Why NOT?” she said, thru clenched teeth.

 

“I’ll not give you another reason to hate me.Or hate yourself,” he said, looking at the door.“You… please get help.You know you need it.You can’t enjoy this.This isn’t you.”

 

“Maybe it is,” she said, her voice deeper, more dangerous.He turned.The expression on her face would haunt him for days because it was so unlike the one she wore moments before; bored, cold, empty.Like she had shut a door.“Maybe it always was.”

 

“No, sweetheart,” he said, full of grief.“I know you. And you know me.”

 

“You’ve _fucked_ me.”She used the word like a knife, throwing it at his chest.

 

Despite what he understood about her and what she was doing, it did hurt, that she said it.This was the worst, but there had been hints of it in her phone calls.She would poke at soft spots, hold pressure and twist.She would laugh while using her backhand to make him feel small.The things she said never worked.It simply hurt that she wanted to hurt him.“That’s not all it was.We both know that.”

 

“Then where _were you_? Pretending like nothing happened, living your normal life-”

 

“Calling you.Messaging you.And you _never_ answered. We both know that, too.”

 

“I wasn’t… I needed…”

 

“You’re angry.Right?At me?For being the reason you were in a hurry.You think I don’t know that?I took the hint, and I stopped.Or did you expect me to keep coming back, every time you pushed me away?”His self-control hung on the edge of a knife.“Did you want me to prove something?Or just punish me, like you’re so determined to punish yourself?”

 

Her nostrils flared and her silence confirmed he was correct.And yet she still sat, motionless, appearing unaffected.

 

“I’m a lot of things, but you know I’m not a masochist.”And then, because nothing else seemed to penetrate, he leaned towards her and added.“You know what else - lay in your self-loathing as long as you want - it’s not going to bring him back.” He walked out of the room without looking back.

 

When he returned 20 minutes later, she was gone.


	8. Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa has to decide who she wants to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many of you have questions about how BOTH of them are conducting themselves. This chapter will provide some clarity, and the next one will as well. I just want to say that my goal is paint them as real people who don't always have the perfect response in given situations. Neither one is ever wholly guilty or wholly innocent of the mess they make. 
> 
> But they have to get better with age - right?

viii.

 

When she got home late Sunday afternoon, she counted the unanswered messages he had sent her.She had deleted them from her phone (each time he sent them, immediately), but her laptop still had copies. The number was 73, over the course of 2 months.Sometimes, they were just to say good night, that he was thinking of her, that he was always here if she wanted to talk.Other times, they were questions - could he come see her?

 

There were voicemails too, but she listened to those more frequently than she wanted to admit.Some times when she couldn’t stop crying.Sometimes when she touched herself before she fell asleep.

 

Once, when she was little, her father had taken her out after a huge blizzard had swept thru Winterfell.More than one house had a drift that covered the roof.Branches of great trees lay in pieces, cracked under the weight of ice.Places where she knew there were roads, fences, mailboxes, or benches… there was nothing but white.Everything that should have been familiar was foreign.Everything was shattered or buried.

 

Everything inside her was shattered or buried.She kept waiting for the world to stop turning, waiting to die.That’s what she had done those first few months anyway.And when it didn’t, she found that the booze made it seem like she was sleeping, or numb, or something not real.It blurred things. Results varied but it left reality parked on a shelf while she took the fast life out for a spin.

 

She laid in bed wearing his sweatpants and t-shirt.She hadn’t really needed them, but she’d taken them anyway.They were soft and though they were clean somehow smelled like him.

 

When she had woken up that morning, before she had opened her eyes, she had been shocked to realize she was still clothed.And when she had opened her eyes and saw the hand in hers, and then looked at the face attached to it, there was an instant of victory.She had found a way back in time.And then reality had set in, and she had been afraid to breathe.

 

She had studied his face.He had started sculpting some facial hair around his mouth and chin.His hair was longer, but less wild.There must be product in it.His nose and his eye lashes were the same.His shoulders and arms seemed broader, more muscled, from what she could tell through his shirt.She wanted to slide under his arm and rest her head on his shoulder, to see if it felt different from the last time.

 

She had tried to remember if she had said anything to him, and if so what.And then he’d woken up and the conversation had indicated to her that she probably hadn’t said much.

 

She toyed aimlessly with the drawstring on the pants. _Maybe he had loved me once_ , she thought. _But that’s gone now._ Because of the things she had done.Not to him ( _though she had been horrible)_ , but because of the things she would never tell him.The things beyond the drinking that she’d done, to feel anything other than grief.The things that made her cry when the flashes of memory crept in.The things she would never tell anyone.

 

She needed someone to hold her.She wanted to tear herself apart.

 

Instead, as she lay there still a bit hungover, she made rules.

 

***

 

She started small.She didn’t keep alcohol in her apartment and she took a walk every week day.Those were the rules.Some days she didn’t keep them, but she never gave up on trying.

 

She quietly dropped all her classes.She knew she would fail them, just like last semester.Her mother was too busy with Robb to notice.She got a job at a bookstore/coffee shop, a local place with gigantic arm chairs where most of the patrons were senior citizens or the nerdy types she didn’t typically hang with.It smelled like wood and cinnamon and hazelnuts.

 

The next rule was that she never called in to work.If she drank, she’d have to get up and feel shitty and pay for how she’d treated herself.

 

Once she sobered up more consistently, she started feeling shame.Lots of it.Not over her dad, but over the person she had become and the opportunities she’d thrown away and the way she had treated people.Not just Jon, pretty much everyone.

 

She never went to a meeting _(her pride, her pride)_ , but she read about what the steps were.She apologized to Arya.She didn’t really accept it, she just told her to prove she meant it by getting her shit together.She asked Theon to not give her anymore grass, anything _period,_ no matter what she said or did, and to stop telling her about his parties.He agreed.Sometimes he came into the shop to check on her.She wrote Margaery a letter and shoved it under her door because she’d stopped returning her calls months ago.Two nights later, she showed up at her apartment with junk food and simply said, “Welcome back,” as she walked through the door.

 

She wasn’t ready to say anything to him yet.

 

She went through her phone and started blocking numbers, changing the names to NOPE and DO NOT ANSWER, so she could no longer distinguish their owners.

 

She stopped being _so angry_ that she wanted to hurt other people, which was an important distinction.She realized that hurting herself was hurting other people.

 

There were days she didn’t want to do any of it.Wanted to curl up in a ball and break every rule and sink under and not surface for a week.She would lose sight of why she wanted anything to be better, when nothing would ever be the same. _I’ll do it for him, if I can’t do it for myself_ , she thought.

 

The first time she slipped and got really wasted, drinking like before, Theon saw her at the bar and kept her close until closing.He walked her home and held her hair back twice when she puked on the sidewalk.She felt sick for three days after.She realized that she’d always felt that sick after, she’d just gotten used to the pain.And now she wasn’t.

 

That’s when she realized what Jon had meant when he said _he was not_ a masochist.He said that in contrast to her.

 

She remembered how sometimes she would prick her finger with her sewing needle, to see how hard she could push before she backed off.The rest of her life could be so boring, so easy, the pain was a relief.How all the stories she loved were filled with longing and heartache. How sometimes she had liked to cry or scream over nothing, simply because it felt good to feel.And Robb would call her dramatic.

 

Maybe she helped create what her and Jon had been so she would have something to long for.A secret to be a little bit sad about.A needle that pushed into her skin _just enough_.

 

She doesn’t want it anymore, but she’s afraid she won’t be able to stop.

 

**

 

_Jon -_

 

_I realize you may not open this, when you see my name as the sender.I know I have treated you badly this past year, but I hope you will keep reading._

 

_I’m sorry for the nasty things I’ve said to you.For trying to make you responsible for something you had no part in.For pushing you away when you tried to help me.You’re not a villain.I just needed one and it was incredibly unfair to make you it.I know I’ve been hard for other people to live with… it’s been hard for me to live with myself._

 

_Thank you for making sure I was safe that night at Robb’s dinner.I hate to tell you that there have been other nights when no one did that for me.I haven’t cared much about what happened to me since my dad died and I’ve put myself in situations where I knew I was in danger._

 

_As you said, I need to take care of myself.I’m trying. I got a job at that bookstore on 12th, not sure if you remember it, and I’ve been trying to stay away from drink.I’m not perfect but it’s better.I’m considering moving to Kings Landing after Robb’s wedding.I hope to finish school one day, but it will help to be away from some of the people who have encouraged my partying in the past.I still have a lot of work to do._

 

_The spark that started this progress has a lot to do with you.Thank you for saying to my face what no one else had.You were right about the self-loathing.It won’t change anything.I have to learn to live with things as they are._

 

_I know you want the best for me.Knowing that gives me a lot of strength.And I want the best for you too.I’d love to hear about how life is going for you… I hate that I didn’t even ask that morning._

 

_I assume I will see you at Robb’s wedding.I hope we can be cordial. I hope I will be a very different version of myself the next time I see you.Sansa 3.0 - stronger, wiser, zero tears/snot._

 

_**_

 

It’s a quiet Wednesday afternoon, two days after she sent the email (the first thing she’s really said to him since…everything.) Sun is streaming through the front windows when she starts doing inventory.The bell on the door dings and she huffs because she’ll never get anything done if people keep coming in.

 

And she turns around.And it’s him and that twitch in the side of his mouth when he’s not sure if he should smile.And he walks to the counter, like he does it everyday.“Hello.”

 

Her heart leaps and her fingers tingle and she’s _sure_ its the first time she’s felt joy in a very, very long time.“Hello.”


	9. Only Love Can Dig You Out of This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He showed up - now what?

ix.

 

It had been 5 months since Jon had seen her when he read the email.He didn’t want to wait until Robb’s wedding.He’d waited long enough.  He had to call in sick to work because it was short notice and he didn’t even want to wait for the weekend.  And he actually had no idea there was a bookstore on 12th but a quick Citadel search was all it took to find it.

 

When he saw her eyes, he knew he’d made the right decision.

 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.You look great.” _That sounded way too much like a come on, stop it._

 

“Thank you.”Sansa smiled and blinked.Her co-worked appeared to be wiping the same patch of counter behind the bar, obviously snooping.

 

He should have rehearsed more.But she was so clearly happy to see him that it was making him speechless.“I read it.Obviously.” _I am pathetic._

 

“I’m glad you did.I’m so surprised you’re here.”Sansa tilted her head slightly and began to walk around the counter, over to some tables.He followed.

 

“So, how’s the job?”

 

“It’s good.” she said, picking up a few cups and wiping down a table.“Predictable, calm most of the time.There’s some old guy regulars who come in twice a week and flirt with me.”Jon quirked his eyebrows and with a slight laugh she insisted, “It’s very PG.”

 

“Excellent.Then I won’t have to punch a senior citizen.”He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the edge an over stuffed chair.“So what’s this about King’s Landing?”

 

“I don’t know.It’s an idea.”She didn’t really meet his eyes.

 

“Yeah…”A silence hung between them.He wished he knew the right thing to say.The right way to tell her everything. It was so much easier to talk after they had sex, after he had heard her say his name and beg him to touch her.In those moments, when they were naked and her fingers danced on his chest, he felt he could say anything. But he had to find a way to talk without that, he knew, if he didn’t want to end up in the mess they had had before.

 

“I wish I could talk, Jon, but I should-“, she glanced back at the counter.

 

“ ‘Course.”

 

“I’m so sorry that you drove up here and I have to… it means a lot, that you’re here.”She bit her lip and scrunched her brow.

 

He nodded.This had all gone so differently in his mind; like some stupid movie. The pause was becoming awkward, he had to say something. “Maybe we could grab just a sandwich or something, before I have to head back?When are you done?”

 

“Around 2.I’d love to, if you don’t mind waiting.”

 

“I don’t at all,” he said.And her smile grew wider.

 

***

 

Two hours later, they sat under an umbrella at a sidewalk table, eating their sandwiches off of crinkled paper wrapping and sharing a bag of chips.

 

They spoke about Robb and his campaign and his upcoming wedding (Sansa liked his fiancé), and how Ayra wasn’t really speaking to her, but she wasn’t yelling at her either (give her time, Jon said).Then he finally got up the nerve to ask about how she was _really_ doing.

 

“Some days, I really do want to go drink, even though I know I’ll feel terrible after.But mostly, it’s just trying to be okay with things being a bit boring.Not needing there to be a game or some drama happening,” she said, with a shrug, her eyes shy.

 

“I never thought of you as someone who liked drama.”

 

“Oh, I did.I liked to make a fuss, liked it when something complicated is happening, acted more dramatic than I needed to be.And _you_ certainly know I like to play games.” She fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist.It was the most direct way she had acknowledged their past in the entire conversation.

 

“That, I do.”His voice was deep and quiet, as he tried to keep his breathing steady.An image of her in his shower flashed and the palm of his hand could feel the water and her hip.

 

Her eyes met his.She looked sad. 

 

“When I saw you walk in today…” She sighed. “It’s still there.”

 

“Yeah, me too.” _Gods,_ he wanted to touch her.Just her hand.It was so much easier when he could touch her; it calmed his nerves. Everything he wanted to tell her was jumbled in his mind.

 

“I don’t think it would be good for me, right now.I need to learn to be… myself.”

 

It was hard to believe that she meant it because her eyes looked so sad.It was all he could think about. _She is sad… but she was happy… and maybe it’s my fault for coming here._ “I understand.”

 

“Do you, though?”

 

“It would be a distraction.”

 

“Yes,” she nodded, running a hand thru her hair.“But also.I’m really messed up, Jon.I’m not sure if I know who I am. I feel like I’ve spent most of my life _acting_ like who I think I need to be.I need to actually be myself.And I’m just beginning to understand that, let alone try to do it.”

 

_Now that sounded like her, complicated and knowing and depth that reached far below the surface_. “In that Sansa, I don’t think you’re that different from most people.In fact, you’re a step ahead of them, because you’re actually trying to figure it out.”

 

The corners of her lips turned up.“Thanks.”

 

“I’m messed up too,” he said, quietly.“Do you know why I showed up today?”

 

“I sent you the email.”

 

“But I could have shown up before. I didn’t.”

 

“But that was when I ignored you, and I was a brat, there was no reason for me-.”

 

“But… I hope you won’t hold this against me,” he said, running his hands through his hair.“I understand now… I wanted you to say you needed me.I sat by and I didn’t do anything and deep down I thought, if she needs me, she’ll admit it and then I’ll go be the damn hero.”

 

She squinted at him and cocked her head to the side.Then, with both confusion and humor in her voice, she said, “That is kinda messed up."

 

“I know. My thing is… I have a hard time believing that I have anything to give.So I don’t put myself forward.That’s why the few women I’ve dated are ones who have showed interest in me, but weren’t what I really wanted.Why… way back, years ago, I didn’t just walk up to Robb and tell him I fancied you and he could punch me if he wanted, but I still would take a chance on you.That’s why I’m single. And have a job I hate. And feel lonely and awkward most of the time,” he laughed then, it was a relief to say it out loud and to her, one part confession, one part apology.“I’m messed up.”

 

She smiled and shook her head.“I remember moments when you were quite smooth.Not awkward at all.”

 

“You… don’t know what I was thinking.”

 

She leaned in, smirked and waited for him to continue.

 

He inhaled a shaky breath.“Mostly it was just my heart pounding and me screaming ‘it this really happening, God’s I’m going to ruin my pants’ on repeat.”

 

Her hand came to her forehead, her laughter stayed silent in her chest, shaking her, folding her upon herself.“No, I don’t believe it!”

 

“And a lot of very nice thoughts about you,” he added quickly. “Which then led me back to ‘is this really happening, God’s I’m…yeah.”Jon’s hand went to his own forehead, blush rising on his cheeks.They both were laughing hysterically now, not exactly at what he said, but at the shared relief of speaking to each other again with no awkwardness between them.

 

“What very nice thoughts, exactly?” she asked, eventually, when the laughter died down.“It never hurts to be told nice things.”

 

“Just… how lovely you are.”Jon cleared his throat, “Well, on that note, it was very nice eating a sandwich with you.”

 

“Likewise,” said Sansa, beaming at him.

 

Jon crushed the sandwich paper in his hands and then looked back up at her, considering.He needed to be cautious but not timid.Finally, he settled on, “I don’t want to do the thing where we both wait for the other person to talk.So maybe we could agree on when we want to talk or if we keep talking?”

 

Her smile had yet to leave her face.“Yeah. That sounds… adult.”

 

“No games, right?”

 

“Right.I would like to keep talking.Just talking.”She said the last part like it was an apology.

 

“I agree,” he said.“Just talking.So how about next Sunday we could have lunch?I could drive up here or we could meet half way?

 

“That works.I have Sundays off.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

Jon blasted his radio the whole way home and turned the steering wheel into at drum set.Ten days and he would see her again.And maybe, if he played his cards right, this time they would last.


	10. The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is keeping Jon up at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a semi-short interlude. But I feel it's important for these two to unravel some truths about how they used to be. Things that happened, that they probably didn't know how to handle at the time. So, enjoy!

x.

 

Several weeks later, after they had met up twice in very public places for very innocent interactions, Jon finds himself stuck in a dream for the 3rd night in a row.Really, it’s a memory because he recognizes everything.His semi-unkempt room in the fraternity house in college, the moonlight in the window, his futon couch rolled open for sleeping, and his ears cradled between Sansa’s soft thighs. 

 

The taste of her and her fingers on his scalp. 

 

The noises she made, between aching whispers: _Please. Please. Oh, Jon. I want you._

 

He feels the prickle down his spine as she pulls hard on his hair, moving him up her body, as she rises to meet him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

 

He knows what night this is.He knows what’s about to happen.

 

 _Please let me have you.Please.I want you inside me.I want it.I need it._ He feels her words against his mouth, inside his mouth, more than he hears them.They float down his throat and knot into a pit of nerves inside his stomach. Her hands reach for the front of his jeans and fumble with the button.She’s shaking; he can feel that too.

 

He shouldn’t do this.Not here, and now.Not on this crappy futon, in this dingy house, on a Tuesday night because she’s knocked on his door out of boredom.

 

_Please.I want it to be with you.Please._

 

His head falls against her shoulder; she’s managed his zipper at this point and her hand brushes against the skin below his belly button, on its way to where he wants her most and has only let her go twice of the dozen times he’s brought her off.

 

 _Ok._ His voice is hoarse and he’s afraid.That this will be over before he gets there, because he’s never let himself believe he would get there, that he would feel her warmth, and now his blood is racing through his body and he’s light headed and harder than he’s ever been.Afraid that she will regret this.That is won’t be good for her.That he doesn’t know what he is doing.

 

She doesn’t know that he’s only done this 3 times.Not 3 people.Three times.  She still doesn't know that.He’s good at everything else because he’s done that plenty.But not this part.The part most men skip to is the part he fears the most.

 

His limited experience was with someone who had plenty.He’d desired her.Obsessed over her.Cared for her.Hadn’t really loved her but he only knows that now.

 

He kicks off his pants, then pulls her back to him.She eases them back down to the mattress, lying on her back, bringing him to her side.He plays with her breasts as he kisses her and she starts humming against him.His hand dips back between her thighs and she is still wet as ever.

 

_You’re sure?_

 

_Gods, yes.Yes.Jon…_

 

She curls an arm around his shoulder and pulls him on top of her.His hips and his bare length settle between her legs and she moans at the contact; her knees bending involuntarily, hooking around his thighs.He feels her heat and her damp.He never wants to leave.He grinds into her clit with his length and she goes ridged beneath him, moaning loudly as he covers her mouth with his own.

 

He slips against her twice more then sits up and takes himself in hand.She watches him, their eyes meeting as his cock head finds its place. With his free hand, he cups her cheek.It’s a final question.

 

She smiles at him, covering his hand with her own, turning her head into his palm to kiss it.

 

He pushes forward, slowly, lowering himself until their chests are touching. And just as his mouth reaches hers, he hears her breath trip in the back of her throat and feels her tense.

 

 _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry._ He kisses her softly, rolls one of her nipples between his fingers, willing himself to stay still.

 

 _Oh-la…oh-la…_ she whispers against his lips as her body begins move.And so does his.

 

Their foreheads stay together.They breath the same air.They don’t chase anything.

 

Then he hears it.

 

_you… oh-laf… you._

 

 _Sans…_ His hands are in her hair by her temples.He pulls back ever so slightly.Her eye lashes are wet but her hips move faster and her mouth smiles.He buries his face in the crook of her neck. _I love you.I love you._

 

_I love you I love you I love you._

 

He feels her clench around him.He comes apart, mostly silently but shaking uncontrollably, spilling on her stomach.She pulls him back to her, kissing him, wrapping her legs around him, the wetness between them, those words between them.

 

They never say them again.They never (even now) have admitted it happened.

 

He doesn’t know why.

 

_____________

 

It’s 5 am and he’s cold and sweaty when he wakes.He knows she’s awake because she will have to be at the coffee shop by 5:30.

 

They’ve talked a lot about being honest.How they can’t guard their truths so much, not with each other, if they ever want to be solid.This is especially hard for him.  So he doesn't ignore the impulse he has to call her and tell her what's happened.  He's found that when he wants to talk to her, he should give in.

 

“Hey, good morning!”She’s so cheerful at this hour, it’s astounding.

 

“Good morning.”He sounds far more grave, and it’s not just his nerves.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I had a dream about you and I just woke up.”

 

“Really?”

 

"Well, it wasn’t exactly a dream.It was a memory like it was happening again.It was… so real.”

 

“What was it about?"

 

“It was.. the first night.Our first time.Your first time.”

 

She’s quiet.Still.Before he could tell she was getting ready and he has stopped her completely.But she doesn’t hang up.Why would she?He doesn’t know what to expect.

 

“I’m not trying to be creepy, but it’s the 3rd time I’ve dreamt about it this week and I think… the way I remember it… we both said I love you.I know I said it, maybe you didn’t, maybe I just imagined that part -“

 

“You didn’t.Imagine it.” Her voice is soft, a little scared.

 

“Ok.Good.But then we never… again.” He pauses.Giving her time to stop him, tell him it’s too early, by the clock and by the barometer of their reunion, and she’s busy and this is too much.But she doesn’t.“Sans.”He says it like it’s a breath, like she is his air.He doesn’t call her that often, hasn’t for a very long time.It’s what he called her before they got kinky.Before he hid his affection for her behind other, less personal pet names.“I love you.I don’t expect anything because I say that, I just know that I do.I hate not saying it.”

 

He looks at his screen because the line might be dead it’s so quiet.But it’s not.

 

 _Oh fuck, you moron._ “I’m sorry.I’m sorry if you’re upset.I should have thought before I”

 

"I’m not upset.I’m very happy.” She laughs a little and sniffs a little and he wishes he’d waited to tell her this in person.

 

“Good. Good.Please don’t cry.”

 

There is another long pause.He hears her take a deep breath. “Jon, I’m not ready to… say it.”

 

“That’s ok.Not why I said it…Have a good day, okay?We can talk later.”

 

“Ok. I'm really happy you told me. Go back to sleep, maybe you’ll have another dream.”

 

“I hope so.Bye.”

 

“Bye.”

 

 


	11. Scared of What's Behind And What's Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night phone conversations push them forward.

ix.

 

They started talking on the phone more after that; it turned into a nightly ritual within a fortnight.Each lying in their own bed, together. 

 

He’d said those 3 words to her.She hadn’t said them yet.But they lived inside her.She carried them around in her chest each day, when she did the simplest things.Accepting change in her hand at work, buying a piece of fruit, walking home in the crisp air.She was waiting for her voice to release them.

 

They talked about anything during those long nights on the phone, but towards the end of each conversation, it usually veered to the past.He would compliment her.She would flirt with him. They’d begin a dance toward moments they each remembered a little differently.Choices they made, things they hadn’t ever understood but had happened to both of them.

 

She had learned that he was fragile.It was a shock, because she’d always thought of him as strong, wise, confident, experienced.But all of that was really just him being brave.Jon was brave and the bravery covered all of the soft, bruised, scarred parts.The tender parts.

 

She realized the night of her birthday, he’d really just wanted to have a nice dinner.To take her on a proper date and be romantic.He liked those kinds of things, even if he possessed little confidence to carry them off.

 

She realized that when he talked about memories with her, every story started with, _“that was the night you wanted…”_ And then she realized she’d never really concerned herself with learning what pleased him.And it had been a mistake to assume he would tell her.

 

From that very first night, when she had told him of the ‘naughty’ things she thought about, he had tried to please her.How he treated her was what he thought she craved.He didn’t want to fail, disappoint. He wanted to be her fantasy.

 

But it was different now.Sansa no longer wanted a fantasy.She wanted what was real.And that was harder.Especially for him.

 

She had a lot to learn about caring for a man’s heart.

 

One night, when they had finished talking about the latest episode of _Flea Bottom Finds,_ and their day at work, and what they had for dinner and where they planned to meet this weekend, the conversation turned to the past again.Because she needed to know and the only way was to ask him _directly._

 

“Maybe I should let you go.It’s late.”

 

“Oh, I don’t have anywhere to be.”She took a deep breath and gave voice to the question she’d been phrasing in her head for 20 minutes.“Jon.If you were here… if you wanted to be… intimate, with me.Right now.What would we do?”

 

“What do you want to do?”

 

“No…please, I want to know what _you_ want to do.I want to do whatever you want tonight.”She heard him inhale on the other end of the line.“There’s no wrong answer.”

 

He cleared his throat.And she waited.And just when she was about to let him off the hook, he spoke.

 

“I… I would kiss you.Just kiss you for a long time.With just my lips.On your neck, and your cheek and your jaw and your lips.”

 

He said it as if it was the filthiest thing he’d ever said to her. “Where are your hands?”

 

“In your hair.”

 

“Hmm. What’s happening now?”

 

“I’m still kissing you.I never get to kiss you enough.”

 

Her heart broke at that, her eyes instantly welling with tears.It was true.They hadn’t kissed that much back then.And they still hadn’t kissed since reuniting.She sighed. “I like your lips.They feel so good.”

 

“That spot, on your neck, that makes you shiver.I would stay there.Until your arms were full of goosebumps.”

 

 _Do I know what gives him goosebumps?_ She sucked in a breath, as she brushed over the spot with her finger. “Where am I?”

 

“In my lap.Straddling me.”

 

“Are you… are you hard, Jon?”

 

“Yes.You can feel it.You’re squirming against me.”

 

“You feel so good.You turn me on so much.”

 

His voice grew deeper.“I push your shirt aside, to see your collar bone.I suck on that.And then I make my way back up your neck, and your jaw.You’re head’s thrown back and I bring it forward so I can kiss your lips.And I finally put my tongue in your mouth.”

 

She moaned.

 

“And I’m inside you.I do with my tounge what I know you want me to do with my cock.And my hand slides down your back.I touch you, under your shirt, right above your ass.Your skin is so soft.You rock against me as I suck on your bottom lip.”

 

“Jonnn,”she whined, breathless.

 

He rushed on, his voice grow progressively ragged. “That’s all I want to do.I want to make love to your mouth and rock against you.Go back to the beginning.Learn you all over again.I’d wait.Take my time.I’d remember every first.I’d spread them out.Savor them.I’d savor the taste of you.Make it last.And when I finally have you, when I finally get to be inside you, the lights would be on.I could see all of you.What your eyes tell me. And you’d say my name as you come apart.I’d say yours.I’d scream it as I shudder inside you.I would…”He groaned then.

 

“What?What would you do?”

 

He choked on a sob.“I can’t.”

 

“You can tell me anything.”

 

His panting subsided.“I can’t.Not on the phone.”

 

There was a long pause.They listened to each other breathing.

 

“Jon?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I want you to know… the thought of sitting on your lap and letting you kiss me as we dry hump each other has never turned me on so much.I’m a mess now.”

 

“I think about it a lot actually.”

 

“Dry humping me?”

 

“Yeah.I know, it’s weird.”

 

“Why that?”

 

“I’ve never really done it.When I… sex happened really fast for me.I never got to do the stuff you do when you _want to_ have sex with someone.But you’re trying not to go too far, too fast.And then, with you. I did sort of the same thing.I don’t regret being with you at all.But sometimes I regret that it happened so fast.And some of it’s hazy because we were partying.And so I think about…”

 

“Pretending like we’re 15 and we snuck away during study hall?”

 

From the sounds of his breath, she knew he smiled. “Basically.Yes.”

 

“Could you finish like that? Through our clothes?” she whispered.

 

“Yes.I could probably finish just watching you do certain things.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“I’m not going to tell you all my fantasies in one phone call, Sansa.That’s completely unfair.”

 

“I like your fantasies.I want to live them out, so I must know all of them," she quipped.

 

He laughed, loud this time, and she pictured his ear turning red and a smile so wide she saw all of his teeth.“What are you doing on Sunday again?”

 

“Dry humping you?I hope?” she said with a laugh.

 

He sighed.“Are you… are we ready for that, or are you just saying it because you’re horny right now?”

 

It was a fair question; she often behaved differently when she was turned on.And the answer had been brewing in her for days, keeping her awake at night.Playing chicken with the fears that also lived inside her.That they could do this better the 2nd time.Or for the first time.Or maybe it was all one big story with no end.She didn’t know, she just didn’t want it to end.

 

“I want to kiss you.The more we talk, the more I want to. I want to feel every thing you just told me.No more.I know I joke but… I want what you want.I want it to be slow.”

 

 

_____________________

 

 

That weekend, after a walk in the park and a trip to a student exhibition at the university museum, they went back to her place.Their conversation died as they entered thru the kitchen and looked at her couch. 

 

Jon’s mouth went dry.He wasn’t sure if she was ready, even if she said she was.And he was nervous, Gods help him, because he’d had all week to wonder if he really would get to kiss her.

 

“Just give me a second before we…” she said, a smile on her face. “I need to fix something, it’ll just take a phone call.”

 

She sat on the couch and fished into her purse for her phone.She hid the screen from him as he waited patiently, sitting next to her, plenty of space between them.Her speaker phone began to dial.

 

“Hello?”

 

Jon’s eyes went wide, as he looked at Sansa in confusion.It was Robb.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now why on earth would Sansa be calling Robb? Hope you like the cliff hanger :)


	12. Brand New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two shifts happen in Sansa's living room.
> 
> “Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away.”  
>  \- Louis de Bernières

iix.

 

 

“Robb!I can’t believe you answered.”Sansa said, cheerful.

 

“Yeah, I have a minute, what is it?”

 

“Well, I’m sitting here with Jon.”Sansa smiled as her eyes locked on Jon.

 

“Snow?”

 

“Yes, your best mate, Jon Snow, that one.Look, I want you to know we’re dating.And he makes me very happy.”

 

Jon silently fell back against the couch and starred at the ceiling, rubbing his hands across his face.He was excited, nervous and shocked.And most other emotions he could name.He couldn’t believe she was doing this, he was so glad she was, he had no idea what Robb would say, and he realized he didn’t _really_ care.He didn’t want to choose, but his relationship with her was so much bigger and more important than their friendship could ever be. 

 

_Ohhhh_ , he thought, _the wedding._ It was two weeks away.Perhaps he was about to be fired as best man.

 

The silence dragged for a long moment.Then, Robb’s voice came, steady, across the line, “How long has this been going on?”

 

“Off and on since the end of my freshman year.” Sansa declared, without a shred of apology.

 

“Bloody hell.”He sounded exasperated.But not angry.

 

“Robb, I don’t care what you think, I’m an adult-“

“Sansa, please.If you’re both happy, that’s fine… I just lost a bet with Theon is all.”

 

Jon shot up from the couch and looked at her, obviously confused. Sansa’s mouth dropped open. “What!?” she exclaimed, shrill and confused.“I am a bet?”

 

“I don’t want to get into it, it was a long time ago.I was wrong, he was right, obviously.Are you on speaker?”

 

Still off kilter by her brother’s lack of reaction, Sansa stuttered. “Y-Yes.”

 

“Snow?”

 

Jon straightened up and cleared his throat.“Robb?”

 

“You probably know what I have to say.“

 

“You’ll kill me, Robb.I know.And you should, if I’m an arse.”

 

“Good, that’s settled.I’ve gotta go then, car’s almost at the next stop.”

 

“Robb-“, Sansa interjected, but he cut her off just as quickly.

 

“It’s fine, I’m happy for you, just be good to each other. And don’t drag me into your fights.And don’t tell me about… anything.I mean it.Unless he’s an arse, and then I want to know.Must go!”

 

They heard a crowd of people cheering for the briefest instant and then the line disconnected. 

 

Sansa looked at Jon, wide-eyed, and suddenly, a huge smile erupted on her face. “Well.That’s done then!” she gasped, falling back onto the couch.

 

Jon let out a hesitant chuckle.“Bloody hell!” he said, impersonating Robb’s stuffy indignation.

 

Sansa’s smile turned into a fit of giggles.“He’s just so… ugh. We need to talk to Theon about whatever this bet was.”She smiled at him.Jon was quiet, his eyes looking down into his lap. “I wasn’t sure that would go that well but I didn’t want to kiss you until it was out there.And I really want to kiss you today.”

 

Jon leaned back into the cushions, looking into her eyes, his face soft but guarded.

 

She looked at him and a wave of awareness washed over her.“I’m sorry,” she said.“We should have talked about that before I did it.That was really impulsive.”

 

“It was also pretty impressive, to hear you say all that,” he said, his lips quirking upwards.“But yeah, maybe next time, we could talk about it before.”He looked down and she knew, whatever he said, he was hurt just the slightest bit.

 

“I’m sorry, Jon.I really am.”

 

“It’s okay.Sometimes, I need to be dragged a bit.Mostly glad you did it, glad that’s over.”

 

“I know it was always complicated for you.With him.”

 

“It’s easier now.We’re older.A little more separate.” he said, trying to shrug it off.He didn’t want to talk about Robb and all the ways he’d always been jealous of him and what it felt like to be a man stuck in a shadow, so much more insignificant in the grand scheme of things.Robb could actually change the world; Jon never would. He changed the subject. “Will you tell the rest of your family?”

 

“Yes.Before you see all of them at the wedding.Because I want to dance with you.And kiss you.And flirt with you in front of everyone,” she said, lifting her chin into the air with triumph.

 

“Oh yeah?”He said, reaching for her, a smile blooming across his face.

 

“Yes.”Sansa heart fluttered as she scooted closer to him, thinking about his fantasy, seeking out his lap.

 

But he stood and reached for his phone.“Then we should practice dancing.The kind you do at weddings.”

 

Sansa slipped off her shoes then pushed herself up onto slightly shaky legs, unconsciously smoothing the flowing tunic she wore.It was stupid but she was trying to make herself as short as possible; it was an old wound she carried from being a gangly teenager.“I don’t have much experience with slow dancing.I was always too tall at the high school dances to get partners.”

 

The first strands of a tender voice filled the room as Jon reached for her, twining his fingers into hers:

 

_These arms of mine, they are lonely_

_Lonely and feeling blue_

 

His other hand slipped tentatively to the middle of her back.“We both could use the practice, then.”He met her eyes and his were tender and innocent, and she did feel 15 again, the way her heart fluttered in her chest.

 

_These arms of mine, they are yearning_

_Yearning from wanting you_

 

Her free hand found its way up to the back of his neck.Her fingers danced over the scruff he had there.And with tiny, swaying steps, Jon brought her closer to him, tucking their joined hands onto his chest.

 

_And if you would let them hold you_

_Oh, how grateful I will be_

 

She rested her left cheek against his right, feeling his breath tickle her ear.Sansa’s eyes drifted shut.The smell of him, so familiar, invaded her senses.The weight of his body against her was delicious, so solid, defined.It had been _ages_ since they had been this physically close.Her skin tingled and her heart pounded until she was dizzy.And under her hand that Jon clutched to his chest, she could feel his heart doing the same.

 

HIs hand on her back stroked her tentatively.Her skin bloomed with goosebumps.

 

The song changed; still tender and soulful, but more intense. 

 

They fit together, one of his legs settling between hers, their hips brushing against each other in rhythm with the music.She felt a familiar itch settle in the bottom of her belly.The slight, inconsistent contact of their swaying was felt most profoundly between her legs.She both wanted and didn’t want his hands there, enjoying the fire building within her.

 

He pulled back to look at her as they rocked together.His mouth hung open and his eyes were heavy, moving from her eyes to her lips.Her own eyes settled on his lips as well. _The things he has done to me with that mouth.The things I want him to do still._ And yet she didn’t lean in. 

 

Her eyes shifted back up to his, which were already starring at her with dark, wide pupils.He smiled at her, with only the corners of his eyes.His hand slid up her back and into her hair, his other hand quickly following. Her breasts crushed against his chest and her nipples ached.

 

_This is it_ , she thought, snaking one hand deeper into his hair and the other around his waist.She tilted her head slightly, anticipating him.

 

The song track faded.Another one didn’t come on.The strain in their breaths filled her ears.

 

Jon stroked his cheek with her thumb.She let her eyes drift closed.And she felt his lips on hers.

 

Sansa thought she had been kissed every way a person could be kissed already.She was wrong.

 

The kiss was soft and patient. He varied the pressure and the angle and the speed, yet only used his lips. His fingers contracted and released against her jaw and neck, never pulling with tension, but stroking her.

 

It had been over six month since Sansa had let a man kiss her.And the men who had kissed her then, in that time between her father’s death and when she decided to sober up, had never kissed her like this.If their hands were in her hair, they were pulling, if their lips were pressed to hers, their tongue was plunging into her mouth.Take take take and she had thought it would help.Take my pain, take my grief, until I can’t feel it anymore. And maybe it had worked because in the end, she always wound up feeling empty.

 

But this kiss gave.It wasn’t about passion or instinct.It was pure, without motive.It wasn’t a prelude; it existed for no purpose other than an expression of love.It went on and on and on, never pushing to be more, as if he was telling her a profound secret. _You are precious to me, you are enough, this is enough, we have our whole lives._ He was fully clothed, yet naked before her, in that kiss.

 

She didn’t know she needed to be kissed like that.She only ever wanted Jon to kiss her like that.

 

As promised, after an eternity, he made his way down to that spot on her neck.And he did know right where it was.Her hand around his waist clutched his shirt into her fist and her hips thrust against his leg.She was the string on a bow, taunt against him; she felt the heat of his mouth on her neck _everywhere._ A desperate cry escaped her lips.

 

He kept her in his arms, clutched tight against him, but shifted his lips to brush against her temple.“Should we… stop?” he whispered.

 

She settled her breathing with two deep gulps.“It might be… wise.”But her arms did not let go of him, neither did his grip on her loosen.They might have been seeking shelter in a blizzard for all the strength with which they clung to each other.

 

“I don’t think we can dance quite like that at the wedding,” he finally said, and she felt his smile against her cheek.

 

“Good thing we practiced.”

 

 

 

Later that night, after he had gone, Sansa lay in her bed, reliving that kiss, smiling stupidly into her pillow.She was closer to 23 than 22 but she felt 15 or maybe even brand new.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two songs I imagine playing in this chapter are These Arms of Mine (lyrics included in chapter) and That's How Strong My Love Is, both by Otis Redding. Give them a listen!


	13. Ice Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rob's wedding approaches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the long gap since updating, I have never intended to abandon this story! Thanks to those who have expressed interest in it continuing; your comments as SO appreciated as I often doubt myself as a writer.
> 
> As always, I have no beta so if there is an error, please let me know and I will edit :)

iiix.

 

 

When she told her mother, her eyes were unreadable.Without a smile, she asked, “Do you love him?”

 

“Yes.”Sansa felt her cheeks burn and tears welled in her eyes.She couldn’t explain exactly why.Her mother’s gaze bore into her, as if that word had been a confession of wrong doing.She felt like a child, disappointing, giving into her baser nature when she should have been better behaved.

 

“Then I shall pray for your happiness,” Catelyn said, looking over the rim of her glasses, forcing the barest of smiles onto her lips while her eyes remained cold.She turned to busy herself with paper work.

 

Sansa showed herself out, listening to her heels click on the stone floor.

 

______________________________

 

About a week after ‘the phone call’, Jon had his final fitting for the custom suit Robb was giving him as a gift for being a best man.Jon suspected it was a gift that benefited the overall look of the occasion as well.He suspected Catelyn had insisted.

 

“Snow, I do have a question.Now that I’ve had time to think.”

 

Jon’s eyes found his in the mirror.

 

“ _That_ morning I called you.To find her, in White Harbor.”

 

Jon already knew the question.He had been waiting for Robb to piece it together.“She was with me.”

 

Rob’s gaze did not stray from his.“I’m glad.I probably couldn’t have said that then.But I’m glad.”

 

“I do love her, Robb.I just never knew how to tell you.And I expected your father to murder me.”

 

Robb smiled, swirling the whiskey in his glass as he shook his head.“He wouldn’t have.He always liked you.”

 

_________________________________

 

 

Arya didn’t know what to say.She bit the straw of her iced coffee and furrowed her eye brows.

 

Finally, after several minutes, she said quietly, “But Jon is… Jon.”

 

“To you that means one thing.But to me, it’s always meant another.”

 

Arya nodded.“You know, you have been my sister my whole life and sometimes I still don’tknow you.Could never predict what you will do next.”Her voice was flat, with a hint of awe.

 

“I could say the same about you.Are you upset?”

“No,” she shrugged.“It’s just strange.But he’s good.Always has been.I just can’t imagine you wanting to…” She shivered slightly.

 

Sansa blushed.“One day, Ayra, you’re going to actually fall for somebody, and then I won’t need to explain a thing.”

 

_______________________________

 

The notes from a string quartet floated through the room, hitting the opulent furnishings and equally opulent guests.There was nothing intimate about the rehearsal dinner and Jon kept to the outskirts of the room while Sansa guided Rob’s bride-to-be around and helped make introductions.

 

Jon was crossing to the bar when he found himself face to face with Catelyn.She met his eyes, smiled, said his name, reached to pull him into an embrace.His hair stood on end and he kept his face blank.She had never, in all the years he had known her family, shown him an ounce of affection. 

 

He placed tentative hands on her back as she whispered in his ear.“I want you to know, there will never be any money.I have seen to that.If that is your angle, you will be very disappointed.”

 

Jon met her eyes.They were cold.He struggled to form a string of words that might somehow respectfully communicate to her that she was wrong about him.

 

She looked over his shoulder then, and with a flick of her wrist and a bright smile said, “Senator Tarly, how lovely to see you.”And she was gone.

 

Jon stood rooted to the ground, pulling the cuffs of his shirt down, feeling emasculated, embarrassed, judged, though no one would ever know what she said to him.

 

_______________________________

 

 

Sansa carefully took one foot out of her heel, letting it rest, rolling the ankle, as she leaned against a high top table hidden in a corner.

 

“You’re looking glamorous with… whatever it is they’ve done to your hair,” said a smooth, confident voice she would know anywhere.

 

Sansa chuckled as she looked at Theon’s lopsided smile.“Thank you.”

 

“Fancy one?” he said, offering one of the two shots he’d brought with him.

 

She crinkled her nose.“No, staying away from that, still.”

 

“Fair enough, wasn’t sure.”Theon slammed both in quick succession, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.“So I’ve heard you and Jon are official.”

 

“Yes. And please enlighten me on this bet you made with Robb,” she countered, raising her eyebrows.

 

Theon blushed.“It was harmless.”

 

“And yet, I want to know how it is that you were on the right side of it.”

 

“Well, I don’t always have head up my tail.”She leveled her eyes at him, insisting he continue.Stammering, trying to edit himself, he went on barely meeting her eye.“One night, Robb and I are getting pissed and, well it was right before Jon graduated, and Robb was wondering if maybe… he was a bit of a… a poof.”

 

“You thought he was gay?”

 

“I didn’t!That was all your brother.You know how thick Robb can be sometimes.Jon’d had that thing with Dany but then it died so quickly and we never saw him bringing home girls or even flirting with girls - half the time at the bar they’d flirt with him, pretty bastard he is, and he’d look mortified.It was great fun for us because we’d scoop them up.But Robb figured there had to be a reason.And the best one he came up with was that Jon… maybe fancied him.”

 

“You have GOT to be kidding me.He is such a pompous-“

 

“A bit full of himself, your brother, yes.And I told him NO, because I was no fool.I told him Jon fancied a Stark but it was you and not Robb.And we shook on it.I knew I was right so it didn’t matter to me.”

 

“But how did you know?”

 

“You two were not _that_ careful.I had seen Jon dance with you.Jon doesn’t dance and not ever to bump and grind music.But with you, and that look on his face.I saw him touch your hip once.And I _knew_.”

 

Sansa looked at her hands and blushed, the memory of those first months together sweeping over her.

 

Theon continued without pause.“I have no idea why no one else figured it out.And if I’m honest, the only reason I never put the moves on you was because I saw how he looked at you.He’s sensitive but scary as hell when he’s angry and I didn’t want to get in his way.And then, after… everything, when he would text me to see how you were once we were back at school.”

 

Sansa met his eyes.“Wait, wait.I did not know that.”

 

Theon nodded.“When you were really into the drink.He’d ask me how you were and asked me if I could look out for you.And he’d always say Arya too, but I knew he really meant you.”

 

“So you, of all people, were the one who knew our secret… and you actually kept it to yourself?”Sansa teased.

 

“I’ll try not to take that as an insult.I may have never excelled in school like you but I know people.And I know lust.And I know love.That brooding blockhead has a lot of both for you.”

 

Sansa shook her head and looked down again.“At least, so far as he knows me, he loves me.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

She sighed and bit the corner of her mouth.“Theon, would you say that you have… seen me at some of my lowest points?”

 

He met her eyes and did not look away.His tone was casual, unapologetic.“I suppose.And you, mine.”

 

“Jon doesn’t know about any of that,” she replied quietly.

 

“He knows a bit.I don’t think it would matter to him.” She dipped her head back, her mouth opening, ready to argue, but Theon was too quick. “I mean it.So you had a slutty phase.So you did some drugs.So you got wasted.Everybody does some version of that, or they do it with other things.”

 

Sansa played with her bracelet.“I dread the day I talk to him about it.That he’ll never look at me the same.Sometimes… we met when I was…” She looked furtively at Theon and then shook her head, half smiling at his bemused expression. “I should _not_ be talking to you about this.I don’t know who I _can_ talk to about this.”

 

He laughed good naturally at her, elbowing her side.“Well, if you are going where I think you are going, _do not_ talk to Robb about this.”

 

“No kidding,” she smirked. 

 

They stood there in silence, gazing out at the room.Both thinking how silly it was; the show that must be made and all the people who participated in it. 

 

Theon’s voice was low.“Out with it.You won’t shock me.”

 

“Maybe he likes to think of me as innocent.And if that gets proven false, maybe I will lose my appeal.”

 

“Sansa,” he leaned on the table, turning his body towards her. She inhaled deeply and met his eyes. “If that’s the case, I have greatly misjudged him.And if that’s the case, I hope you keep me in mind because he doesn’t deserve you.I’ve never looked at you differently, for any of it.It happened during a rough time.You gotta leave it there.”

 

Her smile was small, sad and knowing.“Thank you.”

 

He patted her shoulder, like they were about to leave a locker room after a tough game, turning to walk away.He took two steps.

 

“Theon?”

 

He turned, the way he always did, dipping his head to the side, with the slightest toss of his hair.

 

“What was the wager?On the bet?”

 

He grinned broadly.“A karaoke performance.Which your brother will be paying on after this dinner.”

______________________________________

 

 

There was a bar down the street from the hotel.They all walked together; Rob, Theon and Jon in the lead, conspiring together, merry with drink.

 

It seemed Theon had planned it all.Karaoke night was already in full swing, though the place was not overly crowded.After speaking with the the guy at the front, Theon was quickly given the mic.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to thank you for allowing me to interrupt the line up tonight with a very special performance so that a debt that is years in the making can finally be paid.My best mate and soon to be husband to that beautiful woman over there,” Theon winked and pointed, “will be giving you his best rendition of a classic.And because we are such loyal groomsman, myself and that brooding ass over there are going to help him.”

 

The bar clapped.Arya hooted and whistled in Sansa’s ear as Rob and Jon went to the front.

 

A quiet fell.The first strand a a beat fell into the room and everyone knew the song instantly.And then Rob exclaimed very convincingly, “Yo, VIP.Let’s kick it!”

 

The following day, the wedding was lovely.But after Rob was gone, after they stole him from the world just like her father, this was how she remembered him. 

 

"Love it or leave it

You better gain way

You better hit bull's eye

The kid don't play”

 

Carefree for an instant, flanked by his best mates, rapping about nonsense to a room full of strangers in his best suit.

 

“Quick to the point, to the point no faking

I'm cooking MC's like a pound of bacon

Burning 'em if, if you ain't quick and nimble”

 

Brimming with life, it spilling out of him, drawing everyone in that room under his spell. 

 

“Gunshots ranged out like a bell

I grabbed my nine

All I heard were shells

Fallin' on the concrete real fast"

 

Her serious, take care of business brother behaving like any average 25 year old.And she was still in the back of that bar, laughing hysterically, Arya next to hear, yelling along with them. 

 

"Shay plays on the fade, slice it like a ninja

Cut like a razor blade so fast

Other DJ's say, "Damn"

If my rhyme was a drug

I'd sell it by the gram”

 

She remembered him like this so she could smile.

 

“Ice ice baby Vanilla

Ice ice baby Vanilla

Yo man, let's get out of here

Word to your mother”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rob is dead... is anyone else? And what will the fallout for the Stark's be?

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments are a bright spot in my day! Thank you so much!


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